The Death of a Critic -- Rónán McDonald
I actually finished The Death of a Critic a little while ago now, and started it at the very very beginning of the summer, so at this point I am going to do the best I can to remember it. I’ve also already forgotten where or how I came across the book, or what even compelled me to read it, but I am so so glad I did, because it’s pretty wonderful, a really accessible book about the role of the critic in contemporary culture. Some of the things McDonald discusses I had sort of knee-jerk reactions to (for example, I'm getting awfully tired of people talking about how blogs will be The Death of Us All, whenever I read this I think that whoever is saying this must not read blogs or have a computer or something), but generally his arguments are really thoughtful and persuasive. McDonald contends that one of the major problems with contemporary criticism -- one of the major reasons why it doesn’t seem to have a voice or a place or power anymore -- is because in the last few decades there’s been a shift in literary criticism from appraising and evaluating literature to focusing on contextualizing and analyzing it. While we’ve grown dismissive of this idea of evaluating fiction, McDonald claims that the act of declaring certain books worth a reader’s time and effort is important and should have a place in contemporary criticism. Until relatively recently this was one of the major functions of criticism, and the current hesitancy or refusal to do this has played a role in the demise (and seeming ineffectiveness) of the critic and the growing distance between between literary studies and English departments and the public, as well as the public’s increasing inability to understand or appreciate the importance of these departments or the work that they do.
In the last year I’ve started seriously reading book reviews, and I’ve grown to really dislike two kinds in particular: 1) ones that gleefully rip apart a book and 2) ones that refuse to clearly express an opinion, instead focusing nearly entirely on the summarizing the content. I guess in part because of this, I felt really swayed by McDonald’s contention that literary critics should in some way guide and help readers. I do wonder, though, which literary critics would actually get to do this job. (Some of the loudest literary critics who are also public intellectuals, like Camille Paglia and Harold Bloom, also seem to be the silliest.) I also wonder if this “evaluating” business is something only done by professors, or if this is something McDonald imagines graduate students taking up, too. And, most obviously, I’m interested in getting some more details about how we’re defining what’s “great literature”? (I don’t mean to suggest that this is impossible or subjective, but I do wonder what sort of rubric there would or could be.) I’m not raising these questions because I’m skeptical, but because I’m so used to literary criticism devoid of clear evaluations that in some way it’s hard for me to imagine how this would work.
While I think his argument is really convincing and engaging, there’s still some stuff I’m not so sure about. For example, McDonald either fails to mention or isn’t interested in the fact that while earlier criticism had a clear evaluative function, there was plenty of it that was narrow-minded and short-sighted and almost hilariously biased, not to mention kind of badly written. (For example, so much of the criticism I’ve read about Felicia Hemans is really obnoxious and gross, praising her distinctly and intentionally as a Female Poetess [not poet] and often commending her with condescending, backhanded compliments.) I guess my point is that commending earlier criticism while failing to mention some of its shortcomings (because really, it seems there are plenty) of feels a little incomplete.
In the last year I’ve started seriously reading book reviews, and I’ve grown to really dislike two kinds in particular: 1) ones that gleefully rip apart a book and 2) ones that refuse to clearly express an opinion, instead focusing nearly entirely on the summarizing the content. I guess in part because of this, I felt really swayed by McDonald’s contention that literary critics should in some way guide and help readers. I do wonder, though, which literary critics would actually get to do this job. (Some of the loudest literary critics who are also public intellectuals, like Camille Paglia and Harold Bloom, also seem to be the silliest.) I also wonder if this “evaluating” business is something only done by professors, or if this is something McDonald imagines graduate students taking up, too. And, most obviously, I’m interested in getting some more details about how we’re defining what’s “great literature”? (I don’t mean to suggest that this is impossible or subjective, but I do wonder what sort of rubric there would or could be.) I’m not raising these questions because I’m skeptical, but because I’m so used to literary criticism devoid of clear evaluations that in some way it’s hard for me to imagine how this would work.
While I think his argument is really convincing and engaging, there’s still some stuff I’m not so sure about. For example, McDonald either fails to mention or isn’t interested in the fact that while earlier criticism had a clear evaluative function, there was plenty of it that was narrow-minded and short-sighted and almost hilariously biased, not to mention kind of badly written. (For example, so much of the criticism I’ve read about Felicia Hemans is really obnoxious and gross, praising her distinctly and intentionally as a Female Poetess [not poet] and often commending her with condescending, backhanded compliments.) I guess my point is that commending earlier criticism while failing to mention some of its shortcomings (because really, it seems there are plenty) of feels a little incomplete.