and sontag died of the luekima she has had since the 70s--this is what i wrote somewhere else about her...


i hated her notes on camp, but her book on fotos (her two books really) changed completely how i viewed art and the image, it completely rewired me--what pisses me off is how closeted she was, till her dying day, so closeted that i have seen rare mention of her long term and emotionally/aesthically/critically rewarding realtionship w. the wonderful annie lebowitz. which is why i think her notes on camp is so wrong (so deeply deeply wrong) because camp is a series of processes for queer folk to mitigate a hostile exterior landscape, and she was so safe that the mitigation was not nessc. (and also why illness, which was (obliquely)about her cancer, was better, more real, more honest and more wounding then aids which was held at a distance, happening to other people, so she could become colder--i find it strange considering her history, and her critical heratiage(sp) she didnt consider the nature of identity more--for critical heraitige(sp) read barthes

(brilliant critic, brilliant writer, hero of mine, should have come out)