Joan Didion: Greatness and The Autonomy of The Dead Artist

By Leela Ting

On November 16th, beginning at 11 am, 224 of Joan Didion’s personal items were auctioned off online. The initial estimated prices quickly doubled and tripled as her robust following logged on and bid their hearts away. Her iconic Celine sunglasses, thick tortoise shell frames with a translucent black lens, sold for $27,000. An oil painting of Didion, rendered in soft tan and pink hues, sold for $110,000. For many, this was but a blip in the cultural landscape but for some this was an investment- the most intimately they could ever interact with a woman they worship. 

Joan Didion passed on December 23, 2021, striking a nerve through the literary world. Her writing style, one that has influenced many contemporary authors, is deadpan and honest and emotive. Among her prolific collection of work, a handful are particularly persuasive. Slouching Towards Bethlehem (1968) was, as some claim, the beginning of her career. It is a collection of essays exploring the charm and flaws of California in the ‘60s. Slouching Towards Bethlehem set a precedent for the trademark Didion style which included essay collections, social commentary, and depictions of the indomitable human spirit. The White Album (1975) and Play It As It Lays (1970) also comment on the late ‘60s. Blue Nights (2011) is a grief stricken portrait of Didion’s daughter, Quintana Roo’s, death. Quintana passed from acute pancreatitis a month before Didion’s most popular book, The Year of Magical Thinking (2005), was published. In her stellar 2005 novel, she also explores the grief she faced after losing her husband to a heart attack. Her life- and subsequently, her writing- is steeped in grief. Notable mentions include South and West (2017), After Henry (1992), and Where I Was From (2003).

Similar to her writing style, her personal style is unfading. She believed that “Style is character”, a mantra that materialized in her bold sunglasses and distinct use of color and silhouette. She wore her outfits with a stoic face, an expression that became just as emblematic as the clothing pieces themselves. Her packing list which appeared in The White Album (1975) was just as concise. It read, “TO PACK AND WEAR: 2 skirts, 2 jerseys or leotards, 1 pullover sweater, 2 pair shoes, stockings, bra, nightgown, robe, slippers, cigarettes, bourbon; BAG WITH: shampoo, toothbrush and paste, basis soap, razor, deodorant, aspirin, prescriptions, Tampac, face cream, powder, baby oil; TO CARRY; mohair throw, typewriter, 2 legal pads and pens, files, house key”. Didion had a presence that is almost as emblematic as her work itself. She was intentional in her words and her dress. Simply put, she was cool. 

The scale and speculation surrounding the auction is unlike how Didion lived. It is reasonable to question the tact of selling a dead artist’s possessions. If done badly, it can be seen as the reduction or commodification of greatness. Didion’s parents, brother, husband, and daughter are deceased- the man behind the auction is Colin Stair. When visiting Didion’s upper east side apartment, he said, “You could feel the cerebral sort of pulse of the place. Even though there was nothing precious about her apartment, there was this overwhelming sense that someone great had occupied it. You could feel it in the space. It was 10 minutes of goosebumps.” Proceeds from the auction went to the Sacramento Historical Society and the Parkinson’s unit of Columbia University, the disease that she battled up until her death. 

These material echoes of her life are remnants of her most intimate moments. The dinner table at which her husband had a fatal heart attack was sold. It was listed as a “Late Regency Ebony Inlaid Mahogany Pembroke Table”. The table top has “Staining, fading, gouges and scuffing throughout”, according to the listing. Joan Didion wrote, in The Year of Magical Thinking, “Grief has no distance. Grief comes in waves, paroxysms, sudden apprehensions that weaken the knees and blind the eyes and obliterate the dailiness of life.” Colin Stair shows an obvious respect for Didion. He curated and sold her belongings with a careful hand. And yet, Joan Didion will never know that a stranger bought the table her husband died at. 

We are not able to discern the motive behind this auction, or any auction. Although monetary profit is the product of an auction, it is easier to say that selling a dead artist’s possessions is fueled by admiration. For Stair, it is likely both. Didion wrote, almost ironically, “I know why we try to keep the dead alive: we try to keep them alive in order to keep them with us. I also know that if we are to live ourselves there comes a point at which we must relinquish the dead, let them go, keep them dead.” To “keep” someone alive is a verb- a maintaining of memory, be it physical, verbal or spiritual. The auction was a case of said maintenance, and goes against Didion’s idea of relinquishing the dead. 

Didion wrote, in “ On Self Respect” (1961), “To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, the Phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commissions and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice, or carelessness.” Respect is how we determine our actions after someone dies. As much as the artist herself valued respect, fiscal influence overpowered her wishes. The auction has happened and has brought some of her following incredible joy. It is, in some ways, a beautiful way to honor her. However, we must tread through the world of Joan Didion, post-death, by the beliefs of Didion herself. 

A study, “From Imaginary Autonomy to Autonomous Collectivity” writes, “In this post-national environment the notion of artistic autonomy, together with artʼs symbolic value, is bound to be both marginalized and absorbed by global marketing as one more brand for specialized leisure products.” An effect of capitalist expansion, profit determines the value of an artist. Joan Didion would have likely not consented to this auction. And yet, on December 23- the day of her death, her autonomy faded.