Men go mad in crowds, but they recover their senses one by one.

Banksy in Neverland

by Theodore Dalrymple

The curious appeal of a marginal artist

Men go mad in crowds, said Charles Mackay, author of Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds, but they recover their senses one by one. As if to bear him out, New Yorkers have been rushing to see a small piece of graffiti by Banksy, the famous British street artist who, clandestinely as usual, is “in residence” in New York for a month. Banksy’s latest creation was a small silhouette of the Twin Towers, out of one of which grew a golden chrysanthemum, painted on to the base of a building on Staple Street. It was not one of the artist’s best efforts, but such is his renown that people hurried to see it before it disappeared, apparently under the impression that by doing so they were demonstrating their enthusiasm for art.

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The New York Times reports that a lawyer, Ilyssa Fuchs, rushed from her desk the moment she heard about Banksy’s latest work and ran more than half a mile to see it. Would she have done so if a delicate fresco by Piero della Francesca had been discovered in Grand Central Terminal? In the modern world, art and celebrity are one. And we are all Peter Pan now: we don’t want to grow up.


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