Andy Warhol the man is a difficult creature to grasp. His art, at least some parts of it, is familiar to us; so familiar, in fact, that it is becoming difficult not to think immediately of Warhol whenever we see a can of soup or an automobile accident. Yet in spite of this almost-overpowering presence or his work, Andy Warhol has managed to keep himself apart, a kind of enigma, a striking enigma, it is true, with his artificially grey hair, dark glasses and leather clothing, but an enigma nonetheless. His presence is as striking as one of his canvases, and just as devoid of a narrative sense. Warhol offers his image, his mask, for public consumption, but deprives the public of anything more. Asked about his background he once replied, “Why don't you make it up?” The remark is characteristic. It shows Warhol's unwillingness to expose himself beyond his public mask. The exact function of this image will be taken up later; but it should be mentioned now that Warhol apparently would prefer not to be thought of as a man, with a past, no matter how obscure, and a future, but as a unique entity, a thing of our day, who sprang into existence fully grown to do his work and who will someday vanish just as abruptly and mysteriously. That we know such is not the case doesn't matter. The presence of the desire, although it has remained largely unarticulated, is more important than the objective possibility. With regard to the public, Warhol does not want to exist outside of his image. For all intents and purposes, the image is Andy Warhol. This emphasis upon a stylized exterior and the lack of concern for anything other than the obvious is a major theme in Warhol's art, as well as in his deportment.