Almighty painter

Chapter 1043 You Have the Wolf of Wall Street, I Have the Tiger of the Major Crimes Unit (Part 1)
"I suddenly realized that it would be really strange if a work about love were described by others as having the ultimate goal of turning someone into James Bond."

"Being a tough guy isn't about what clothes you wear, or whether you dress like the muscleman from Terminator. Of course, maintaining self-discipline and tenacity in the gym is definitely a test of mental fortitude. But a person's height and whether he is a tough guy are not directly equivalent."

“An old man who fights a group of sharks and brings back only the skeleton of a huge marlin that has no practical value can also be a truly strong man.”

"If you are familiar enough with Hemingway, then you should be able to understand this."

Gu Weijing said.

"Bond was never an emotional expert; he was defined as a killing machine. Bond wasn't even a real name—'Double-O-Seven,' 'James Bond,' were symbols of the sharpest weapon in MI6, not symbols of the man."

"As a weapon, he can defeat one opponent after another. But as a person, Bond is vulnerable, and sometimes even incompetent, when it comes to dealing with emotions."

“Learning how to love from Bond is like asking a mobile calculator how to be a mathematician,” Gu Weijing said.

"Is it because Miss Elena became your personal agent?"

Mr. Sloth calmly commented: "I think you also have a talent for metaphors. You believe that calculators lack the process of thinking."

"It cannot be said that the thinking process was lacking."

“计算器也有计算器的思考，计算器能够在零点一秒钟内，算出9124乘以1782再加上1667的结果。这是再好的数学家也做不到的事情。但是，计算器却不能证明1+1=2.”

"of course."

Gu Weijing added: "The so-called one plus one equals two is just the most concise simplification of a mathematical conjecture. A calculator certainly knows what 1+1 equals, but it cannot even understand the meaning of this conjecture. This should be the biggest difference."

"Do you think that such simplification is not necessarily a good thing?"

"Some things can certainly be simplified. The media needs catchy slogans to help people understand those obscure and complex mathematical conjectures. But such simplifications do not make the mathematical conjectures themselves simpler."

People like to simplify everything they see.

simplify.

simplify.

Continuously simplify.

"Industrial society is a process that greatly simplifies everything and every process, which is certainly a good thing and has greatly benefited the development of human civilization."

"But human nature cannot be simplified?" Mr. Sloth asked.

"Human nature, human nature itself cannot be simplified."

Gu Weijing repeated.

"If you think love is just about the next pretty female character on screen, that ever-changing Bond girl, who will be rolling around in bed with you in the next five minutes of the movie, then well, Bond is practically a Casanova, a god of love, a figure who should be enshrined on a pedestal for everyone in emotional distress to worship."

"The early 007 films were just telling this story over and over again. Because the story was told so many times, the director didn't know how to tell it anymore. I remember there was a Sean Connery film where the villain killed someone by having intimate relations in bed—throughout the movie, our British agent and the female villain were entangled and fighting in various locations."

"This is so strange. This is a top-tier IP, a top-tier Hollywood movie starring top male stars."

"From a technical point of view, the act of intimate relationships has been completely deconstructed to the extreme in film design. There is a scene in the movie where James Bond snorts arrogantly, looks at the camera with his side profile, and says domineeringly, 'Madam, I think you don't understand the rules of safe intimate relationships at all.'"

"Directors have filmed this plot so many times that they don't know what to film anymore. But after so many directors, so many Bonds, so many Bond girls, and so many similar films, the audience knows, the critics know, and it seems that the directors and Bonds themselves all know... he doesn't understand love."

"Even 007, who is adept at the rules of safe intimate relationships and has mastered so many skills, James Bond, who wears a high-end bespoke suit and orders a shaken rather than stirred drink at the bar, will still be confused and bewildered in the face of real love and real emotions, and may even suffer a head injury."

There was a moment when Gu Weijing first opened that book and saw the New York Times book review on the cover, and the explanation of how many weeks it had been No. 1 on the bestseller list.

He felt that it must be a book full of magic.

But when he looked at Sean Connery's confident and charming smile on the screen...

Gu Weijing then tossed the book aside again.

James Bond may know how to wear a suit, how to dominate at the gambling table, and the difference between shaking and stirring whiskey.

Maybe--

He understands the principles of safe and intimate relationships.

But he never understood love.

“Madam, I think you completely misunderstand the rules of safe intimacy.”

“I think you have absolutely no idea what the laws of love are. It’s too complicated and too dangerous for you, Sir.”

"If it is a magic book, it is a very boring one. Sometimes, similar magic books can even poison people."

"You believe that waving your wand and chanting 'Yugardim Villeosa' will make feathers float away. You stubbornly believe this, thinking it's the only truth in the world. But that's not how it is."

"It's not a spell that determines whether a feather can fly."

"It's not a matter of waving or shaking a magic wand."

“It’s not about whether you can pronounce the syllable ‘jia’ in the word ‘jia’ in a long and clear way,” Gu Weijing said. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t pay attention to your appearance, your speech, or make eye contact when you’re on a date… What I’m saying is that all those technical skills at most determine whether you make a feather fly or open your eyes and find a bull standing on your chest.”

"So what truly makes magic work?" the host asked.

"It's magic itself."

Gu Weijing said.

"What truly makes magic work is always magic itself, Mr. Sloth. Just sitting there chanting spells, studying how each syllable should be pronounced, forgets the magic itself, forgets true love itself."

"Isn't a magic book without any magic power the most boring thing in the world?"
-
Yang Dekang understood what Gu Weijing wanted to express.

Have those truly pure things lost their original sacredness in the process of continuous materialization?

It got boring.

It's like forgetting the magic itself while chanting a spell.

Without "magic" and without "love," there can be no truly sacred outcome; without love, even the most accomplished wizards become Muggles.

Even if a Muggle is holding an elder wand that looks like a candied hawthorn skewer, he can pronounce every syllable perfectly with a flick of his wrist, making the word "add" long and clear.

The feather he wanted wouldn't actually float up.

Not only will it not float, but it will also not float.

It may also harbor disaster.

“But you can’t explain what love is,” Mr. Sloth said. “If you treat love like a religion, with only belief or disbelief, ‘Don’t think, just pray,’ and pray for a good outcome, if you completely mystify it and treat it as magic, then you will only ever talk about something vague. Don’t you think that’s ridiculous?”

"I am not sure."

Gu Weijing said, "But if you equate love and money completely, you'll think that becoming a prostitute is a perfectly logical, even moral, thing. You wouldn't understand love that way, would you?"

"If love is completely technicalized, equivalent to a Savile Row tailored suit to Louboutin's sexy red soles, a martini to a gin and tonic, a deep voice to arched eyelashes, how many seconds of gazing are needed to give hormones room to take effect... if we keep equating it like this, where is love itself in the end?"

"When you turn love into a data analysis paper, it's like filling a box with a bunch of foam balls. When the volume of the foam balls is exactly equal to the volume of the box, there is no longer any place for such a mysterious emotion to exist."

"Love itself has disappeared."

Gu Weijing said.

“Oh, God is dead,” said Mr. Sloth.

“Oh, God is dead,” Gu Weijing repeated. “But I hope love isn’t. Isn’t the art industry exactly the same?” “In the material world, maybe everything really does have a price.”

"But when the meaning of a work can be completely equivalent to money, art itself dies."

"We will no longer accept any other answers, nor any other possibility."

Why would we think that customer was a fool? Why would we think he was unsophisticated, greasy, and stingy? Why would we think he needed a better Porsche to complete his life?

Gu Weijing countered with a question.

"Couldn't he just be a super cool person?"

"He recognized the painting's merits, he was moved by it, and he formed an emotional connection with the artist. Isn't the purpose of a gallery to provide such possibilities?"

“This isn’t theft, right? Galleries are open to the public. Even if it isn’t, for those fee-charging art museums, customers have already fulfilled their contractual obligations when they buy a ticket to enter. No gallery would hold a gun to a customer’s hand and force them to buy a painting before they can leave.”

"I think he's really cool. He came with a pure heart and he left with a pure heart."

“I think he’s much better than me. He’s closer to the true meaning of art than I am. He’s closer to the true meaning of art than all those people who go to galleries, talk about art, and think about how much money they can make from a painting…”

Old Yang is no longer sad.

With each word Gu Weijing spoke, Yang Dekang's lips curled upwards until his cheeks almost split open.

Cool!
"So, I'm actually such a cool person!"

"I wasn't being stingy, I was... being cool!" Yang Dekang scratched his chin, and even the finger that had just been pecked by the parrot no longer hurt.

"I was closer to the true meaning of art then!"

Yang Dekang is a man of action.

He took out his phone and immediately changed his WeChat signature to—

Come with a pure heart, leave with a pure heart.

Brother Gu, those words are exactly what Brother Yang wants to hear. Your words are as sweet as honey, and they make Brother Yang a little embarrassed.

"If you can talk, talk more!"

Yang Dekang licked his lips.

but--

To be honest, Brother Yang really wants to switch to a Porsche 911.
-
"This industry—even though every artwork has a price, and even artists cannot exist outside of material society—shouldn't buying and selling artworks be different from buying and selling stocks?"

“After Sarah returned to Paint Magazine, she wrote a long article. Her first question was whether Paint Magazine was still a serious art magazine.”

"Or is it a serious financial magazine?"

"What exactly is she supposed to do? If the board requires her to be an art critic, then Sarah says she might be a good art director. If the board requires her to be a stock analyst, then Sir Brown should turn around and ask Charlie Munger for help."

Mr. Sloth chuckled noticeably twice.

"This is not funny at all."

“Sarah raised a very good question, one that every artist should take up and ask themselves.”

Gu Weijing said.

"At first I thought Sarah was using a very sharp tone to express sarcasm, but later I gradually realized that she simply wanted to understand the issue."

“A painter or an art critic is no more superior than a financial worker, and she is not expressing contempt.”

"For stock investment, the rise itself is a process of creating value. From a brokerage perspective, it promotes economic flow and brings more funds to high-quality companies... Blabla, it has its own set of theories."

"So what exactly is the arts industry?"

"Either you believe in the irreplaceable value of artistic freedom, that it possesses a magical quality, or you agree with Andy Warhol's theories."

"Art is business. Good business is good art."

"There's no difference between the two. It's all bullshit; everyone's just playing a game of commercial hype. That's what they were thinking, and they made a fucking $100 billion. That's pretty real, isn't it?"

"But if you're talking about the artistic value while thinking about how much money it can make for you, if you're in a gallery, excitedly discussing brushstrokes and colors with others, and then thinking that everyone who hasn't made a Porsche from it is a fool, that's very strange."

"Create a meaningless value, portray an empty work as charming, and then recommend it to people who want to get rich, selling it at a high price. Then tell them that if they sell everything they own to buy it, it will allow them to buy a new house with a pool, trade in their used Mustang for a Porsche, pay off the tens of thousands of dollars in student loans they owed to the bank when they were in state university, and maybe even get a handsome or beautiful lover."

"This doesn't even qualify him as a proper stockbroker."

"Isn't this what scammers do—promoting penny stocks, creating pink sheets, and making huge commissions in the process?"

Gu Weijing inquired.

If the young painter knew that not long ago, when he was drinking a five-euro hand-drip coffee at a gallery that part-time sold coffee—or rather, a café that part-time sold paintings—called “The Damn Week Is Finally Over,” the female shopkeeper had thought that Gu Weijing’s demeanor was somewhat similar to that of Hollywood A-list star Leonardo DiCaprio.

His feelings must be very mixed.

This young painter, who set art market price records at such a young age, this young man whose features could only be described as average—

Leonardo Gu, who starred in "Titanic", finished filming "Revolutionary Road", and experienced the set of "The Great Gatsby".

At this moment, he officially strode into the set of "The Wolf of Wall Street".

"What do you think is the solution to all of this? What is the value of art?"

"Mr. Sloth asked."

"I do not know."

Gu Weijing replied, "Perhaps it's love."

Is love the answer to everything?

"Love is the answer to everything," Gu Weijing said slowly.

"Then I must remind you that this is using a vague, untouchable, and empty concept to explain another vague, untouchable, and empty concept."

"Then let me ask you a different question."

"Mr. Sloth said."

"I heard that your painting, which you were preparing to submit for the Master Project, was stolen," the host said. "It's said that the detective in charge of the case asked you why you didn't paint another one like it?"

"What's your answer?"

“I said, of course I could do that, but it’s different,” Gu Weijing replied.

“A very vague answer,” said Mr. Sloth.

"It's very vague."

"But I understand what you mean. It's nothing more than the same old argument about the sacredness of paintings."

"Duchamp believed that this sacredness stemmed from the veneration of handcrafted goods. Some pop artists argued that this was a commercial myth, essentially no different from limited-edition sneakers..."

(End of this chapter)