René Magritte puts all your stuff in a box.

When Magritte's dealer, Alexander Iolas, first saw this painting he was extremely upset by it. Magritte responded in dense artspeak: "In my picture, the comb (and the other objects as well) has specifically lost its 'social character,' it has become an object of useless luxury, which may, as you say, leave the spectator feeling helpless or even make him ill. Well, this is proof of the effectiveness of the picture."

Sartle translation: "You are an art dealer, I am an artist, I paint what I want, and I take the fact that it upsets you as a complement."

Before we feel too sorry for Magritte's poor art dealer, we should note that Iolas was a real renaissance man who enjoyed plenty of success. He was a talented dancer who frequently toured with Theodora Keogh, the granddaughter of Theodore Roosevelt. He was also director of the Hugo Gallery in New York, and gave Andy Warhol his first solo exhibit in 1952, titled Fifteen Drawings Based on the Writings of Truman Capote.

But really, this painting is supposed to make you feel uncomfortable.  Pretty much like all Magritte paintings. Like, WTF is that giant comb doing on the bed?

And if none of these things have arms how did the brush get on top of the dresser? And why is the wallpaper the sky? Is the sky on the inside now?

So many questions.  This painting is essentially a stoner's best friend.

In French it's Les Valeurs Personnelles.