Things I Didn't Know

by Robert Hughes

Robert Hughes has trained his critical eye on many major subjects: from Francisco de Goya y Lucientes ( Goya ) to the city of Barcelona ( Barcelona ) to the history of his native Australia ( The Fatal Shore ) to modern American mores and values ( The Culture of Complaint ). Now he turns that eye on perhaps his most fascinating subject: himself and the world that formed him.

Things I Didn’t Know is a memoir unlike any other because Hughes is a writer unlike any other. He analyzes his experiences the way he might examine a Van Gogh or a Picasso: he describes the surface so we can picture the end result, then he peels away the layers and scratches underneath that surface so we can understand all the beauty and tragedy and passion and history that lie below. So when Hughes describes his relationship with his stern and distant father, an Australian Air Force hero of the First World War, we’re not simply simply told of typical father/son complications, we see the thrilling exploits of a WWI pilot, learn about the nature of heroism, get the history of modern warfare — from the air and from the trenches — and we become aware how all of this relates to the wars we’re fighting today, and we understand how Hughes’s brilliant anti-war diatribe comes from both the heart and an understanding of the horrors of combat. The same high standards apply throughout as Hughes explores, with razor  sharpness and lyrical intensity, his Catholic upbringing and Catholic school years; his development as an artist and writer and the honing of his critical skills; his growing appreciation of art; his exhilaration at leaving Australia to discover a new life in Italy and then in “swinging 60’s” London. In each and every instance, we are not just taken on a tour of Bob Hughes’s life, we are taken on a tour of his mind — and like the perfect tour, it is educational, funny, expansive and genuinely entertaining, never veering into sentimental memories, always looking back with the right sharpness of objectivity and insight to examine a rebellious period in art, politics and sex.

One of the extraordinary aspects of this book is that Hughes allows his observations of the world around him to be its focal point rather than the details of his past. He is able to regale us with anecdotes of unknown talents and eccentrics as well as famous names such as Irwin Shaw, Robert Rauschenberg, Cyril Connolly, Kenneth Tynan, Marcel Duchamp, and many others. He revels in the joys of sensuality and the anguish of broken relationships. He appreciates genius and craft and deplores waste and stupidity. The book can soar with pleasure and vitality as well as drag us into almost unbearable pain.

Perhaps the most startling section of Things I Didn’t Know comes in the very opening, when Hughes describes his near fatal car crash of several years ago. He shows not just how he survived and changed — but also how he refused to soften or weaken when facing mortality. He begins by dealing with what was almost the end of life, and then goes on from there to show us the value of life, in particular the value of exploring and celebrating one specific and extraordinary life.

Genres: Art, Nonfiction, Memoir, Biography, Australia, Autobiography

416 pages, Hardcover

First published June 2, 2005

About the author

Robert Studley Forrest Hughes, AO was an Australian art critic, writer and television documentary maker who has resided in New York since 1970. He was educated at St Ignatius' College, Riverview before going on to study arts and then architecture at the University of Sydney. At university, Hughes associated with the Sydney "Push" – a group of artists, writers, intellectuals and drinkers. Among the group were Germaine Greer and Clive James. Hughes, an aspiring artist and poet, abandoned his university endeavours to become first a cartoonist and then an art critic for the Sydney periodical The Observer, edited by Donald Horne. Around this time he wrote a history of Australian painting, titled The Art of Australia, which is still considered to be an important work. It was published in 1966. Hughes was also briefly involved in the original Sydney version of Oz magazine, and wrote art criticism for The Nation and The Sunday Mirror.

Hughes left Australia for Europe in 1964, living for a time in Italy before settling in London, England (1965) where he wrote for The Spectator, The Daily Telegraph, The Times and The Observer, among others, and contributed to the London version of Oz. In 1970 he obtained the position of art critic for TIME magazine and he moved to New York. He quickly established himself in the United States as an influential art critic.In 1975, he and Don Brady provided the narration for the film Protected, a documentary showing what life was like for Indigenous Australians on Palm Island.

In 1980, the BBC broadcast The Shock of the New, Hughes's television series on the development of modern art since the Impressionists. It was accompanied by a book of the same name; its combination of insight, wit and accessibility are still widely praised. In 1987, The Fatal Shore, Hughes's study of the British penal colonies and early European settlement of Australia, became an international best-seller.

Hughes provided commentary on the work of artist Robert Crumb in parts of the 1994 film Crumb, calling Crumb "the American Breughel". His 1997 television series American Visions reviewed the history of American art since the Revolution. He was again dismissive of much recent art; this time, sculptor Jeff Koons was subjected to criticism. Australia: Beyond the Fatal Shore (2000) was a series musing on modern Australia and Hughes's relationship with it. Hughes's 2002 documentary on the painter Francisco Goya, Goya: Crazy Like a Genius, was broadcast on the first night of the BBC's domestic digital service. Hughes created a one hour update to The Shock of the New. Titled The New Shock of the New, the program aired first in 2004. Hughes published the first volume of his memoirs, Things I Didn’t Know, in 2006.

Reviews

[Tom Dale · Rating 2 out of 5]

I give up. I thought his being dead now might inspire a bit of a push to get through to the end but it's not happening. I loved The Fatal Shore but this... no.

It would be an odd autobiography that wasn't self-obsessed but somehow Hughes manages to make it more obviously so than most and to take a clearly interesting family history and turn it into a turgid, whining, bitter drone.

[Eric · Rating 3 out of 5]

Though copies of 'Nothing If Not Critical' and 'The Shock of the New' have made it into the never-to-be-sold core of my collection, I wasn't sure, starting out, that I'd get much out of this memoir (if you're not Proust, Nabokov or Edmund White, your childhood isn't interesting), but by the second chapter I was sold, and it just keeps getting better. The arc is essentially conservative Catholic Sydney in the 1940s-50s to late 1960s London, with an Italian interlude. He's one of the few writers I'd actually want to know in the flesh. Raconteur, skeptic, elitist, erudite voluptuary--in short, a model human.

[Suzanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rambling, shocking, informative, deeply sad and funny, Rbt Hughes reveals almost all in this whirlwind adventure of his most exhilarating life. I laughed and cried out loud all the while surprised that I would or could or was even actually relating to this burly macho and at times perhaps chauvinist writer who, when I was in college, made me gag with dread when his name popped up on reading lists. Now, moving on from this lovingly tattered used copy that I found at Harvard Books in MA, I cannot wait to read everything by this prolific author. In short: this dude can write about art, life and all that sticks between. A must read.

[Sunita Kenny · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really enjoy this style of memoir, being a loosely grouped collection of short stories based on a theme, a relationship or a particular event (Helen garner's is another that springs to mind). Hughes' observations, on Italian art history as much as growing up in Sydney in the 1950s, make fascinating reading.

[Laurie]

Like "Goya," "Things I Didn't Know" begins with an account of the author's automobile accident, which in this case leads him to review his life up to 1970. He gives an interesting account of his childhood in Australia, criticizing his Jesuit education for its severity, but praising the intellectual curiosity of some of his teachers, who introduced him to modernist poetry and fiction as well as the classics. It's a fine line between love and hate, and Hughes seems to pass from one to the other with such intensity that he can hardly remember having loved something or someone he now hates. This makes for entertaining but sometimes exasperating reading. He is entertaining when he describes things that he still loves, like 14th century Italian art, or certain 20th century Australian painters. He eloquently expresses his indebtedness to his mentor, Alan Moorehead, and his gratitude for the opportunities he received in television and print journalism. Where the memoir can get grating is when he hates or has come to hate something or someone, especially seen in his flaying of his first wife, who is now dead. Through her he condemns the excesses of the sixties, especially zeroing in on sexual promiscuity, muzzy-headed idealism and drug abuse. He casually dismisses particular people with a few cutting adjectives. The effect on this reader, perhaps an unduly perverse one, is to feel great sympathy for those he attacks. What is engaging about Hughes is his great love of history and art, which brought him from Australia in search of the great works of the past and sent him back to her to understand her history. His informal language will put at ease those who are intimidated by highfalutin art history and his gossipy approach will draw people in. I read the book with constant googling of the works he described and the people he pilloried, comparing his impressions to mine. I still retain an affection for the sixties and a gratitude for being given the privilege of visiting Carnaby Street in those times, and participating the welcoming hippie subculture. The drugs have not endured, but what's so bad about peace love and understanding?

[Mary · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really wanted to like this memoir but he just kept blathering on about meaningless details that I didn't care about...

[Bruddy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first learned of Robert Hughes watching his documentary series American Visions on PBS in the 1990s and was struck by his erudition and articulateness. It wasn’t simply what he was saying about the art and artists he described but the attractively confident way he conveyed his opinions. Things I Didn’t Know, his memoir of growing up in Australia, moving to Europe and eventually arriving in America to become Time magazine’s art critic, contains the same appeal as the documentary. The experiences he describes are enriched by a brilliant prose style, which matches the tone and rhythm of his speaking voice.

Hughes death in 2012 was at least partially due to a horrific car accident he experienced while visiting his native Australia in 1999. It resulted in many broken bones, numerous surgeries and years of slow and incomplete recovery. He describes this event at the start of the memoir and then flashes back to his childhood in Sydney, his Jesuit boarding school education, his early inadvertent start as a cartoonist and critic, and the emerging need to leave Australia, which at the time, simply lacked the art and cultural sophistication he desired.

Beyond the erudition and articulateness, I was also attracted to the independence of Hughes’ thinking. He really can’t be classified as either liberal or conservative, or affixed to any particular group or school of thought. His opinions concerning art and culture are his own, based upon years of reflection and experience. Thus he’s more than willing to declare the emperor has no clothes and to countervail the abiding value (monetary value most of all) the art world placed upon the work of artists Hughes viewed as immensely overrated, such as Jeff Koons and Julian Schnabel.

I’ll never have more than a generalist’s interest in art, but was greatly pleased by this memoir tracing the transformation of a curious young Australian into one of the world’s most famous art critics.

[Dave White · Rating 4 out of 5]

A FB friend recommended The Fatal Shore but it wasn't available at my library so I read this.
A very open account of the author's life up till the 70s.
He spares no one, including himself, in a well written story.
He also shared his thoughts on art and what he thinks pretentious.
I've noted several artists and sculptors I was unaware of prior to this reading.
I enjoyed the book and learned, what more can one ask.

[Brian · Rating 4 out of 5]

A view of a life

Hughes achieved considerable acclaim for his work of Australian exposure, The Fatal Shore, but his real renown was earned from making art, art history, and art’s creators and devourers accessible. Here he presents himself and the arc of his assumption of duties at Time Magazine, in an engaging, panoramic view of his life until then, in the early 1970s. Hughes is always readable and ripe with anecdote, as he aptly proves here.

[Peter Burton · Rating 4 out of 5]

A good book for lovers of Australia and art,although a bit long in parts if you’re not familiar with art works.I enjoyed the memories of the people who helped him and proved to be unofficial mentors; and the lucky chances that propelled him into art journalism and eventually the art editorship of Time magazine.Despite his TV mannerism and voice he seemed more humble than I imagined and willing to acknowledge his early ignorance and his helpers.So a long read but generally entertaining

[Martim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Easy to read, some good opinions in between and some funny episodes as well. Quite a good description of being involved in the arts was like some years ago. Which the part on the lack of money and possibilities is still quite present nowadays, but the way the milieu worked is not.

Worth the read if one likes good simple prose and thoughtful and unvarnished opinions.

[Jeff Smith · Rating 2 out of 5]

first chapter was interesting, talking about his accident, second chapter slowly lost me, he was just rambling away, lost in his own world, didn't hold my interest.. sorry

[N.J. Danatangelo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Almost anything he writes starts at 4 stars. What a giant.

[Ook Park · Rating 1 out of 5]

gave up at page 150ish. I was trying to read w an open mind bc ive picked this book up accidentally but did have prior knowledge of robert hughs, he has a tv show where he went around the world roasting contemporary artists and their collectoers... and for a guy like me, who never understood this 'modern art' thing it was a fun watch. turns out though, this guy was even more pompous than the new money modern art people... lol! i thought he was the 'man of the people,' ridiculoung those rich people who collect such meaningless things... but he was criticizing them the whole time for not being classicist enough! first of all, the book is entirely subjective with not even a little hint of objectivity... i know its an autobiographical but it crosses the line. he literally starts with a weird apology and excuse for a car accident the he was CLEARLY at fault,.. spinning it as if its some kind of greek tragedy... he makes all kinds of excuses .. but frankly this was a head-on collision that HE CAUSED because he was DRIVING AGAINST TRAFFIC. (he claims he was sober).. he gives out a string of fabulous excuses worst of which was his braggadocious mention of his prolonged lucrative career in America that resulted in his habit of being a right-side driver (the reverse of UK, AU) ...

[Martha]

I entered this memoir gleefully, entranced by Robert Hughes' masterful "The Fatal Shore". The prospect of spending hours inside his head, experiencing his life and journey, seemed thrilling. Well. Halfway through, I'm still waiting for that connection. As in "Fatal Shore", this book is beautifully written. Hughes is a glorious prose stylist. But boy can he be unpleasant company. Even Hughes acknowledges this: in his own words he describes his boyhood self as an "intellectual prig", in college as a "repugnantly clever young thing", and later as a "filthy elitist". I'd add to that "someone bristling with grievance and a quiver full of minor scores to settle". America comes in for many of these -- this country, Hughes' home since 1970, gets trotted out and dosed with condescension and sneering one-liners. Perhaps the second half of the memoir rids itself of sullenness, like a moody teenager finally cleaning up his room and coming into his own. But I'm too worn out to wait around for it to happen.

[Bookmarks Magazine]

Noted art critic Robert Hughes has lived a writer's life, and here he relives his dramatic career. Although he relates key events__his car crash, his two unhappy marriages (and a third good one), and his son's suicide__Hughes focuses, instead, on the fascinating informal education that made him "completely an elitist, in the cultural but emphatically not the social sense." Despite his description of himself, a few critics caught a whiff of elitism in Hughes's jabs at other artists and pop culture. Others disagreed about aspects of the prose and storytelling. To some, Hughes's discussion of 1960s London formed the heart of the memoir; the Los Angeles Times, by contrast, called it a "joyless account of druggy self-indulgence." Readers interested in the intellectual growth of an art critic, however, will find much to savor in this memoir

This is an excerpt from a review published in Bookmarks magazine.

[Hope · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mr. Hughes is a very talented writer with an impressive vocabulary but I urge him stick to historical writing and art reviews. The best parts of this book were those in which he delved into discussions of the art that inspired and formed his career, and the history that shaped his family. The chapters on his childhood were exhausting and almost made me pass on the book altogether. Perhaps this review should be read with a grain of salt though; I am generally skeptical and unimpressed by memoirs. Self-interpretation is hard to separate from reinvention of self, which can change with one's passing moods.

[David Nash · Rating 2 out of 5]

"Things I Didn't Know" starts with the most exciting chapter of the book, his recent car crash; but then gets bogged down in the details of his early life. The book ends abruptly in 1970 leaving 1970-2006 completely absent.

Tales of his life are interspersed with commentary on art which really just seems to be Hughes sticking to what he knows to meet a word count. Otherwise the writing is excellent and it's mostly an easy read.

I picked up a copy for about $6 (delivered!) on book depository and for that price it's well worth it.

[Bob Speechley · Rating 4 out of 5]

There is lot of interesting information in this book about the early life of Robert Hughes before he became an acclaimed, internationally respected Art critic. His family, schooldays and his early working life before he became established are portrayed in a readable form.

Hughes doesn't hold back on the trials associated with his personal life with his first wife and writes a superb story about his visit to Florence after the disastrous flooding in 1966,on behalf of the BBC. The assistance given to him by fellow Australian is important for Hughes' development as a critic.

[Jon Chapman · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is always a risk with later autobiographies that the writer's abilities begin to wane, and so they never quite live up to the style and quality that we experience of the writer in their prime. Such is the case with 'Things I Didn't Know' - it is patchy, with moments that are moving, funny, insightful and eloquent, and others that are rather flat. Clearly the accident and subsequent legal wrangle that begins the book, and cripples him physically and professionally, had a major impact on his powers. Nevertheless, what remains is well worth the reading.

[Brad · Rating 3 out of 5]

An interesting individual, brutally honest about himself and his passion for the Visual Arts. While I agree that the book tends to ramble on, and that Hughes doesn't go much beyond 1970, I still found him to be a highly intelligent and intense individual. Certainly, Mr. Hughes was someone you could count on for an interesting conversation.

[John Orman · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mr. Hughes is a chronicler and historian, but here he turns his critical eye on himself and his world.

I was interested in his stories about his Catholic upbringing, including adventures with Confession and Communion. The story of his recovery from a near-fatal car crash is also very revealing.

A book that shows the value of life, and the value of exploring and celebrating his life.

[Alison · Rating 3 out of 5]

Provocative writer, very opinionated about art, Catholicism, Australia and everything he comes across.
He ends the book in the late sixties, and it is too bad he didn't get around to writing the next volume. I found the Fatal Shore hard going but this moves along; I did have to skip some overwritten parts.

[Scott Gilbert · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful writing, compelling and lucid details as usual from Hughes. He never has the most penetrating insights nor has he lived the most admirable existence, but he presents them in an extraordinary way.

[Tobey · Rating 3 out of 5]

The beginning is great and the end is really interesting. The middle drags a bit but I did laugh aloud more than once.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

fantastic.....robert grew up in australia, went to sydney uni, and then ended up in america, just like me....

this book for me, was very personal.....

i loved it.....

[Luca · Rating 3 out of 5]

A little disappointment, under my expectations...

[Clint · Rating 3 out of 5]

Did not like the first section much at all. After he goes to Italy the book is pretty good. The section about the Florence flood is very good.

[Sue · Rating 4 out of 5]

he's deep, intriguing, incisive and I want to read more of his books! what a life... even tho he ends this one when he goes to Time at age 31.

[Tonette · Rating 5 out of 5]

I enjoyed all of Hughes' thoughtful stories in these dense and layered pages. A required reading for artists, art-lovers, travelers and adventurers, especially when considering Western culture.