Cute, Quaint, Hungry and Romantic: The Aesthetics of Consumerism

by Daniel Harris

Call it an encyclopedia of low-brow aesthetics. In Cute, Quaint, Hungry and Romantic, the writer whom Steven Millhauser called "the most original essayist since George Orwell" examines with devastating wit and in a style distinctly his own the contagious appeal of that which is not art, the uses of the useless, the politics of product design and advertising. Here is a psychic voyage into the aesthetic unconscious of the consumer, as well as "the perfect companion for any foray through Restoration Hardware or the freezer compartment at Dean & DeLuca" ( Village Voice Literary Supplement ). From teddy bears to Mars Bars to Leonardo DiCaprio, this is the refuse of consumerism unflinchingly—and very entertainingly—observed.

Genres: Nonfiction, Philosophy, Sociology, Theory, Essays, Psychology, Cultural

294 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2000

Reviews

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book made me say (internally), "Oh my god, that's so TRUE!" and variations on "This is fantastic and brilliant," usually multiple times per page. Richly, bitterly scathing, as well as enlightening. The kind of thing where you find yourself in adamant, surprised agreement with him, although you'd never before seen it that way. Lots of surprising insights.

I do wish that certain claims were fleshed out or backed up more, and I really wish he had citations or footnotes. The book was written, I think, in the late 90's, and its consumer references reflect that; audiences reading this later might not understand what he's talking about. He does use the "we" voice a bit strongly, and you may find yourself disagreeing on whether "you" actually respond to ads that way.

Especially interesting was the episode on "Zany," where he points out that such comedies are more about despair, alienation, and conformity than about ebullient freedom from the ordinary. He also points out what the "cute" and the "glamorous" have in common with the grotesque. Despite the above criticisms, I'm still giving this five stars because it's so brilliantly fucking awesome and has rocked my mind. That and "Good To Eat" are so far the upper two on my list of "books that have recently rocked my mind and changed the way I see things."

[Candace Corner · Rating 2 out of 5]

Although Harris makes some strong points in this book, these points become repetitive, with page after page describing the dismal state of affairs we're in.

I tried to give it a chance, but after so long I couldn't take it and decided to skip ahead to the ending and see if Harris could offer any solace or advice to remedy the situation.

Instead, all that was offered was a cop out answer. No theories on how to fix things, no insight to what might bring improvement. Nothing to spark a revolution, just pages upon pages of negativity.

I would akin reading this book to sitting next to the arrogant, know-it-all at a dinner party. He seems interesting at first, offering insight and information you may have not considered, but before you can get to dessert, you realize he has nothing new to say and no drive to make the changes to make the world a better place.

[Mel Campbell · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was hugely influential on my thinking about aesthetics when I first read it about a decade ago. It takes the consumer detritus that surrounds us, including the media we consume, and breaks down the qualities it has that generate the moods and affects with which we view it.

I remember lots of lightbulb moments regarding the chapters on cuteness and quaintness, in particular. For a while I was obsessed with this particular mode of lifestyle journalism that my friend Penny dubbed 'Rustique Chic', which is a studied kind of quaintness based on a nostalgic, pastoral simplicity, and I felt so vindicated by Harris's skewering of the artful staging required by quaintness.

I also really loved his analysis of how hygiene is signified, as paradoxically, cleanliness is an *absence* – of visible dirt, of stench, of disgusting sticky textures. So, to convince us that detergents and so on are doing their work, manufacturers and advertisers have to make them artificially spectacular and give them fake 'fresh' scents.

The language does get pompous at times and, as I recall, the later chapters are not as convincing as the earlier ones. I haven't read it for ages and I wonder if I would be as impressed now.

But it's an ambitious and complex book considering it's for a general (non-academic) audience. Having tried to write something vaguely similar in terms of audience and in terms of assembling many different cultural ideas in one volume, I can say this is a tricky, ambiguous genre that risks disappointing both the scholarly and the general reader. But I liked it.

[Emily · Rating 1 out of 5]

I got this at McKay's because the title and the cover interested me. Once I started reading it, I couldn't make myself continue, at least this time. I am 95% sure that I read this a few years ago and sold it. The guy is obnoxious and pretentious and though he makes some pesudo-interesting observations, it's mostly just his ability to throw pop culture references around as much as possible with the biggest words he can come up with.

[Cade · Rating 1 out of 5]

1. There is something slightly off with the printing or the font in this book. Reading it gave me palpable eye strain.

2. It's a DNF because it is hands down the most pretentious thing I have picked up in aaaages. Nauseatingly overwritten. There's an episode of Friends in which Joey writes a letter of support for Monica and Chandler when they were trying to adopt. In order to spruce the letter up and make it sound better, he ran every freaking word through thesaurus. This book is a more academic version of that.

I wanted to love this book--or at least like it enough to finish it. I collect weird things and like the very kinds of things this book is about...alas, he is obnoxious, the book is pretentious, and the printing and/or font are an active danger to my eyesight. Moving on.

[Ivy]

I really wanted to love this book in total, but I mostly read this as a string of amazing phrases strung together. Maybe because I already understand and agree with most of his main points, therefore it was difficult for me to get interested into said points when there were mellifluous phrases and turns of the word for me to secretly try and copy into my own writing and/or daily conversation. I mean this in no disrespect to Daniel Harris at all, but this book would make amazing collages. Amazing.

Oh, I also learned that my hobby of thrift stores and antiques and flea market junk collecting is actually a pathological attempt to mitigate my own consumerist impulses by hiding behind a facade of "stewardship." It's funny, because while I always thought that i was doing a good thing by saving pre-1980s items from the trash heaps to which they are destined, even when friends and housemates tell me to put that shit back in the trash. Actual quote, from me to my parents while looking at a shelf at their vacation cabin: "The purpose of us being on this planet at all is to act as stewards for tomorrow's antiques...so, no, you can't throw away this container of iodized salt from 1979 because we don't currently have any Alpha Beta labels in our food museum." While that specific example may have just been a high-IQ non-sequitur, it was striking at the time for its committment to preservation; but after reading Daniel Harris, I did have to rest with the fact that I do not, actually, operate a food musuem.
But...I could!

anyway, good read.

[Tay · Rating 5 out of 5]

EVERYONE should read this book! It is playfully critical of our materialistic ways but also brutally honest. Everyone will find him/herself described at least in some part somewhere int he book. It's like he "catches" you. Harris examines Cuteness, Quaintness, Coolness, Romantic, Zaniness, Futuristic, Deliciousness, Natural, Glamorousness, and Cleanness in his analysis of consumerism.

Basically each attempts to recognize society's unhappiness with certain aspects of consumerism and promises itself to be a rebellion all while truly being a part of that which is supposedly defies.

Very, very interesting, a must read as it changes you observations on advertising and how it tries to (and usually succeeds in) hypnotizing you.

EXCELLENT! (and full of huge words, grab a dictionary while enjoying.)

[Holly Rich · Rating 1 out of 5]

I thought I would like this book, but the wordiness and filler turned me off. This book could have been written about 100 pages less.

[lachrimae gementes · Rating 4 out of 5]

A merciless and imaginative deconstruction of the images we’ve all been sold by our consumerist culture. Harris will strip you of any illusion that your tastes are anything but the projection of a collective fantasy shaped by advertisers and popular culture. Whether it’s the purifying touch of “nature,” antiseptic (but often surprisingly sensual) notions of cleanliness, or the defensive detachment of coolness, all of the stereotypes, cues, and associations we take for granted are unpacked and critiqued. My favorite chapter (and the most painful to read) was the one devoted to quaintness, neatly exposed as a trick to sell our disdain for consumerism back to us. An excerpt:

(Quaintness) is animistic in its belief that old things absorb the emotions and personalities of the people who use them, that they have photographic memories, total recall, so that creaky Adirondack chairs and saggy four-poster beds become ghost-ridden mausoleums haunted by family spirits…Behind the superstitious belief that quaint furnishings retain the quirks and habits of the human beings who rub up against them, tenaciously hoarding their passions until they are engorged with “character,” is the equally superstitious belief that modern materials such as plastic, Formica, and stainless steel, with their smooth impermeable surfaces and “aggressively shiny finished,” repel human emotions and therefore never acquire the “friendliness” and “warmth” of quaint “porous” things.

While the individual insights are often surprising, whimsically expressed and funny, the format can become a little monotonous. Maybe it would have seemed more balanced if the author had tried to imagine pre-commodified versions of these types of charm, or put it all into its wider context? Not sure, but for such a detailed and vivid critique the book seems to end with a shrug.

[Tracy]

As a cultural critic and not a visionary or prophet, I have always felt that it is sufficient for me to destroy -- to slash, to burn -- and have never felt any desire to formulate utopian solutions...

A delightful evisceration of consumerism and the lies we tell ourselves. Cuteness and Quaintness were the best chapters, Romantic and Glamorousness the weakest. The author sounds like he's having a blast enumerating the ways we fool and placate ourselves to endure capitalism, but never tips over into mean-spiritedness despite the cutting tone. The writing is self-indulgently loquacious, which is a writing style I enjoy.

It is somewhat surprising how well this holds up despite the lack of smartphones and limited state of the internet when it was published, with a few cultural positions that seem to have shifted but largely still carrying the feeling of truth. 

[Tiffany Gholar · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's funny, but I appreciate books like Cute, Quaint, Hungry and Romantic by Daniel Harris now that I am no longer a stressed-out college undergraduate.  It's a book about aesthetics, particularly "The Aesthetics of Consumerism" as Harris has subtitiled it.  What I like about books like this one is the way they look at the objects with analytical scrutiny.  What does "cute" or "quaint" or "delicious" really mean in the context of our modern world?  This book is an attempt to answer those questions.  I think that what it does for the realm of the visual is similar to what TV Tropes does for creative writing, finding common symbols in our culture, grouping examples of them together, and even giving examples of their opposites. 



As an artist and designer, I feel like it isn't enough to just make pretty things.  It's also important to consider subtle nuances of subtext and symbolism.  I think Cute, Quaint, Hungry and Romantic is a good introduction to the topic, particularly because of the clever definitions Harris gives:



Cute

Something becomes cute not because of`a quality it has but because of a quality it lacks, a certain neediness and inability to stand alone, as if it were an indigent starveling, lonely and rejected because of a hideousness we find more touching than unsightly.

Quaint

Quaintness is an aesthetic not only of clutter but also of imperfections, of scratches, chips, and cracks. It loathes the regularity of modern products so completely that it goes out of its way to create artificial irregularities in brand new things, thus faking the necessary dilapidation of quaintness, as when decorators "distress" exposed beams with motor oil and drill bits to counterfeit smudges of soot and the ravages of woodworm.

Cool

Far from reflecting confidence, coolness grows out of a sense of threat, of the strain from living in metropolitan war zones where our equanimity is constantly being challenged, giving rise to a hyper-masculine folk religion that fetishizes poise and impassivity.

Romantic

Lovers are portrayed as refugees from their own kind, ostracized and oppressed by society at large, which has been eliminated from romantic advertisements, creating eerily unpopulated spaces, the echoing ruins of a civilization that the aesthetic wipes out as effectively as the neutron bomb.

Zany

Zaniness allows us to misbehave and yet minimizes our risk of being ostracized as eccentric. It is based not on real individuality but rather on the harmless iconoclasm of the typical prankster...

Futuristic

The futuristic creates its imagery through willful disobedience, an almost bratty, aesthetic misbehavior, rather than through a genuine spirit of inventiveness, of artistic prescience about the appearance of tomorrow.

Delicious

The misrepresentations of the aesthetic of deliciousness must be understood as a part of a systemic campaign, not only on the part of chain restaurants but of food manufacturers in general, to camouflage the insipidity of packaged foods and neutralize the skepticism of a society still adjusting to its loss of control over all aspects of food production.

Natural

The vision of nature presented in magazines is tailored to rival the artists of Madison Avenue, to supply eyes spoiled by the fluorescent tones of consumerism with their chromatic fix, the addictive drug of loud, saturated tints that can only be found it the most exotic reefs and rain forests.

Glamorous

Bad posture and and grooming are key components of contemporary glamor because they exhibit the contempt that this sylph-like slob feels for the dress she is wearing, a blase attitude that sends an unequivocal message to readers that that woman in the snakeskin Versace dress and Medusa curls is above posing, above trying to look good, above conforming to social expectations.

Clean

Faced with the unglamorous task of persuading people to buy products whose function is purely negative, namely, to get rid of dirt, companies have devised an imaginary, exhibitionistic type of cleanliness that we can see and smell, a glittering mirage that makes an emphatic impression on our bodies and seduces us with its lustrous sheen and mirror-like polish, thus reassuring us that we have indeed gotten something for our money.

I hope these little tidbits have intrigued you enough to read the book.

[Nikolai Robinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was a lot to process, hence why it took me so long to read. It covers multiple different “aesthetics” we conform to in a consumerist society, and why we conform to them, such as the romantic, quaintness, cuteness, the futuristic, and more. It’s truly opened my eyes to things I never really thought about before, and has done so with incredible intelligence and wit.

[Liz · Rating 1 out of 5]

😝

[Yung · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read only Chapter 1 very good insights.

[Dawson Cole · Rating 4 out of 5]

this is so good and fun and true like forreal

[Alex K · Rating 2 out of 5]

Reading the chapter on quaintness while wearing my Porta Pros

[Jess · Rating 4 out of 5]

It is with a great sense of accomplishment I placed this book on my "finished" shelf. It was a long hard read. At times, it felt like a poem. A long arduous pessimistic poem. Each sentence had something in it for you to ponder. That in itself is exhausting.

Harris critiques consumer culture with vigour. He attacks each aesthetic from various angles aiming to shatter the very foundations of quaint, glamour, clean et.al. You are left wondering what is actually your personality, and what has been programmed by culture. Do you like those pompom garlands because they are just lovely, or because the subculture you inhabit has decided they are the next IT item for you to own to illustrate your unique individualness and inherent quirkiness as you listen to vinyl and wear floral headbands prancing about in "thrift" look dresses from a chain store (see, Lizzy Caplan's Fashion video).

While Harris offers no solutions (and does he really need to), his thorough critiques will have you questioning everything you buy, and how you participate in potentially toxic consumer environments. But, as he points out as much as Consumerism sucks (my paraphrasing) would we really want to live in a world without it? There are enough dystopian zombie books on the market that illustrate just how lost we would be without a consumer culture. That said, we can still interrogate out consumer habits

[Marsha · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book outlines with exhaustive detail and tongue-twisting vocabulary the way in which capitalism, as exemplified by advertisements and marketing, has changed the way Americans think of themselves or shop for anything. (Even the cover is nothing more than a sly wink-wink about consumerism’s mesmerizing power, featuring the top half of a cute stuffed pink bunny on a pink background.)

This kind of insight has been done before and, unfortunately for Mr. Harris, in a much more readable way. His book screams of self-satisfied affectation in language so convoluted it can be a tad difficult to understand just what kind of statement he’s trying to make. He’s far more interested in wagging a finger at consumerism rather than suggesting ways we dig ourselves out from under its contradictory and bewildering ways of manipulating us.

That’s because, in the end, Mr. Harris has no solutions, no answers. He instead states that capitalism is necessary and that he couldn’t and wouldn’t do without it. So it’s as if he’s stating that he’s no better than the rest of us; he’s just man enough to be up front about it.

I’m not saying Mr. Harris doesn’t have valid points to make. I just wish he could have been more straightforward about it.

[Kristen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Harris reveals the choices advertisers make to appeal to our longings for cuteness, quaintness, coolness, cleanliness and so forth.

Harris also skewers us all for having such longings in the first place.

Are you into natural foods? Eating for the sake of your health? Then he will call you out for taking a vitamin, "one unobtrusive tablet, a deceptively small commodity that houses the entire farm within its fragile sucrose shell."

Do you love to be zany? "Zaniness," he says, "allows us to misbehave and yet minimizes our risk of being ostracized as eccentric." In other words, you're a chicken-hearted rebel.

Is glamour your thing? Well, the industry that sells it to us "turns women into malcontents always scheming against their wardrobes and thus keeps them returning to department stores." Translation: as soon as you buy that must-have pencil skirt, it will go out of style and they'll make you think you need an A-line instead.

While Harris reveals some interesting tidbits about the images thrust before us, he will surely burst the bubble on one or two of your favorite notions about yourself.

Contains a couple cow patties.

[Alpha · Rating 2 out of 5]

I gave up on reading this book. Not something I easily do, but the verbiage in this book leaned towards the absurd. Here's an example:

"In the eyes of most people, whose conditioned responses to this most rigid of styles prevent them from recognizing its artificiality, things like calendars with droopy-eyed puppies pleading for attention or greeting cards with kitty cats in raincoats are the very embodiment of innocence and as such represent an absence of the designed and manipulated qualities of what is in fact a heavily mannered aesthetic."

Pretty much the entire book is written in this fashion. I really liked the ideas, but just couldn't get myself to actually read the book.

[Krista · Rating 2 out of 5]

I originally purchased this book for a marketing class I took in college. Years later during project organization (aka get rid of crap) I found this book. Since I never read it when it was assigned in class, I figure why not give it a go.

I have to admit I didn't really enjoy reading this book. Some of the author's points are interesting, but overall it seemed like I was reading a run-on sentence. I found it hard to focus and at times I would read a few pages without realizing I read them. I think there could be some good group discussions which is why I could see it being assigned for a class.

[erin · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked this up on a whim. My book is cotton candy pink with a bunny on it; obviously, the author has already proved his point.

This is a fairly scathing comment on today's consumer-based society. I found it particularly tough to get past the pomposity of the writing, but found several of the author's points dead-on with some of my own opinions about mass-produced kitch, advertising, and the American "need" to have things.

[Liz Wright · Rating 4 out of 5]

Almost anyone reading this book will find a part of himself or herself in it. Harris discusses all things of our culture in a way that we may not have thought of them before. His views on marketing and culture will amuse you and possibly even shock you. His writing style is fluid, but at times there may be things discussed that not everyone has background on, so the book can be confusing at times as well.

[Saxon · Rating 4 out of 5]

"To imagine a world without consumerism is to erase oneself, to devolve through eons of human progress back to an era in which all of our time would have been devoted to scrabbling in the dust for roots and berries, with not a second to spare for making art or reading literature, let alone for writing ungrateful diatribes attacking the very society that has made my life and its manifold comforts possible."

[Sivyu · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesting. It's a fast easy read. It's about what makes consumers tick and why niche markets have and gained clout. It targets different ideas that we have about marketing, like cuteness, quaintness, naturalness, and cleanliness. I think the most telling sentence in the whole book is: Throughout this book, I have shown how the aesthetics of consumerism are the lies we tell ourselves to preserve our individuality even as we enjoy the luxuries of the mass market. So true!

[Ginger Jane · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've had this book sitting on a shelf for over 10 years and have finally read it now.

However... maybe I absorbed the info by osmosis because nothing in this book felt like a particularly fresh take on society to me. Maybe it's because it's referring to a pre-GFC consumer society. Maybe it's because I read too many minimalist/simple lifestyle/frugality blogs.

Also: I found the language terribly pompous. And parts of the book straight-up repetitive.

[Anastasia · Rating 5 out of 5]

While out of date now, Daniel Harris's look at the aesthetics of consumerism is surprisingly entertaining and insightful: it's a good way to think a bit more about everything from the Hello Kitty movement to the Shabby Chic fad. It's also great for taking an honest look about why you want to get things, and how we objectify babies and "cute" things in a rather disturbing way.

[Harvey · Rating 5 out of 5]

- astute cultural analysis . . . "...consumerist epicurean-ism emphasizes insufficiency and immoderation, preaching slavish dependence on possessions that we cannot afford but that are portrayed as the very prerequisites of happiness."
- one of the most entertaining deconstructions of contemporary consumerism that I have read

[Richard · Rating 4 out of 5]

There were some absolutely brilliant observations in this, but it was frequently vague in a way that felt intended to obscure an even deeper vagueness. Also, I assume the different sections were written at different times and published separately, but perhaps they should have been re-edited. It seemed ridiculous to be reading allusions to L.A. Law in a text from 2000.

[Iben · Rating 4 out of 5]

It gets redundant but it is so funny. "Clean," "Hungry," and "Cute" are the best.