Where Art and Social Change Converge
Book Review: The World According To Color by James Fox
by Ayushi Dutta
James Fox’s The World According to Color is less a book than a conversation that reshapes how you think about the world around you. For someone like me, growing up in a culture where color seeps into rituals, celebrations, and even superstitions, it felt curiously personal.
Take red, for example. Since the day I remember, the color of Diwali has always been red. My family used to light golden diyas on every Diwali, but it was always the red color which seemed to lead. Red sarees mom would wear, red vermilion dot on my forehead, and the red of the swirling rangoli patterns on the floor-all seemed like colors of life itself. Red meant auspiciousness, warmth, and the start of something new. But as I read Fox’s take on the many faces of red, I realized just how layered it was. It is not just the color of celebration, it’s also the color of James Fox’s The World According to Color is less a book than a conversation that reshapes how you think about the world around you. For someone like me, growing up in a culture where color seeps into rituals, celebrations, and even superstitions, it felt curiously personal.
Take red, for example. Since the day I remember, the color of Diwali has always been red. My family used to light golden diyas on every Diwali, but it was always the red color which seemed to lead. Red sarees mom would wear, red vermilion dot on my forehead, and the red of the swirling rangoli patterns on the floor-all seemed like colors of life itself. Red meant auspiciousness, warmth, and the start of something new. But as I read Fox’s take on the many faces of red, I realized just how layered it was. It is not just the color of celebration, it’s also the color of rebellion, blood, and danger. And then, in an instant, my red wasn’t just mine anymore; it belonged to everybody. Then there was black.
Growing up, black was the color you avoided; it was the color of loss, of inauspiciousness. No one wore black to weddings or festivals. Even now, I hesitate before picking out a black outfit for something important, as if it’s carrying an invisible weight. But Fox’s words made me pause. He talks about how black wasn’t just darkness but depth—a color that held worlds within it. Black ink gave birth to literature; black canvases changed the face of modern art. Somewhere in between, I stopped seeing black as a void and started seeing it as a possibility. What makes this book so special isn’t just its history lessons; it’s the way Fox gently tugs at your own assumptions. He doesn’t lecture; he guides. The chapter on yellow wasn’t about its brilliance or how it’s been both celebrated and reviled; it made me think of the turmeric-stained mornings of my childhood and how that yellow came with its own contradictions: sacred and messy, vibrant but fleeing. Fox’s writing reminds you that color is alive. It’s not fixed or universal-it moves with us, shaped by the stories we tell about it. I began this book thinking I already knew what red and black and yellow meant. But turning the last page, I realize I don’t.
Reading The World According to Color felt like peeling back the surface of the familiar to find something startling underneath. Colors I thought I understood suddenly felt full of contradictions, histories, and emotions I’d never considered. I still see red when
I think of Diwali, but now I also think of ancient cave paintings and revolutionaries waving crimson flags. And black? It’s no longer just what we avoid but something that grounds us.
Of course, the book isn’t perfect-what is? There’s the occasional digression that feels a little too dense, and I caught myself rereading sentences to make sure I caught
their full meaning. But maybe that’s part of the charm-it’s not a neat, tidy book. Like color itself, it’s messy, layered, and alive.
James Fox doesn’t teach you about the history of color; he teaches you to see it for the first time.
