"I Know What I Like"

[intertext]

There have been several interesting flurries in the LJ zeitgeist recently about reading and criticism. It started with brisingamen's locked post about writing criticism, and her follow-up debate on "doing" versus "criticizing." Then oursin had a very interesting discussion yesterday about authorial responsibility that in many ways nodded in the same direction. Today, she added a little riff about book clubs and ambiguity, or the lack thereof in popular bookclub choices. Then, yesterday, I read a comment by Ian McEwan (in Time), saying that he didn't have a lot of time for those sites where the reader does all the reviewing. "Reviewing," he argues, "takes expertise, wisdom and judgment. I am not much fond of the notion that anyone's view is as good as anyone else's." Go him, I say. I have a number of thoughts on this subject, which I'm just going to plonk down - they are not necessarily all that coherent or cohesive, just random but connected ideas.

I belonged to a book club for a brief while. I got fed up when the other members outvoted me and gave a better "rating" to Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood or somesuch than to The Bone People. All but one of the other members absolutely hated The Bone People, mostly because it made them feel very uncomfortable. My choice one week was Carol Shield's Unless. When we came to discuss it, most of them were "I didn't like it much... I don't see why this is considered to be so good... I didn't understand it." I pulled out all my "jollying first year students in literary endeavours" skills and managed to show them why it was actually not just good but great, and they left at least understanding it better; I don't think they gave it as high a rating as I did, though.

Far too much "reviewing" these days is in the "thumbs up/thumbs down" school of, "I enjoyed this" or "I didn't enjoy this." I know that I often fall into that trap when I write in here, partly because I'm writing fairly short posts, partly because I am often writing about fairly "light" things. Partly, I hesitate to admit, because I've been uncertain of how well received a more truly critical piece would be - which is wrongheaded, and just plain wrong, given the people on my flist...

Fear of literary criticism - in its academic sense - is a related topic, one that bounces off what brisingamen was writing about. As a teacher at the college/university level, I encounter this in a fairly prevalent attitude toward textual analysis: the feeling that somehow to deconstruct is to destroy, that in depth analysis "spoils" one's enjoyment of a text.

The problem is, that if "reviewing" and, in the sense that reviewing has influence - like Oprah's Book Club choices - on sales, popular taste are thus being driven by "likes" and "dislikes," there is bound to be, to some extent, an effort on the part of writers, filmmakers, artists of all stripes, who have, after all, to make a living, to cater to that taste, and a related "dumbing down" of the product. NB the raft of movie sequels we're subjected to. Or all the novels that quite clearly are written with the Oprah formula in mind (poor abused girl makes good - oh, isn't that Oprah's own life story?). Or all the children's or YA books about magic and wizards (I mean, I LIKE magic and wizards, but ...)

I've been noticing this phenomenon on Flickr (the photography sharing site). There's a whole raft of groups (like communities in here) sprung up calling themselves things like "Superb Masterpiece" "Flickr Diamond" "Most Wonderful, Brilliant and Spectacular Photograph." They are all invitation only, and they all have big icons - like Oprah's Book Club choice stickers - to announce the invitation, that go in the comment box under your photo. If you get into a lot of these groups, there's a good chance your photo will be on "Explore" - the page that highlights the 500 most "interesting" photos that day. The disturbing trend, if you look at the photos on these groups, is that they are all "pretty pictures" - sunsets, kittens, flowers, glowing dewdrops... you get the idea. Photographs of a disturbing subject, or with an edgier feel to them tend not to get invites for these groups, and therefore tend not to get put on "Explore"...

I don't know anything about Art, but I know what I like. Indeed. Is this the future of our culture??

Comments

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

Interesting post. Much to think about. A few quick responses: I don't think it's the future of art in that I think it's always been that way. At the height of the Renaissance, when learning had become a fad, and the richness of other cultures was pouring back in after a long death, what did people across Europe and its borders like? Festspiele and its kin in other tongues: little plays supposedly illustrative of Biblical scenes, but replete with tongue-wagging devils, nubile widows, cuckolds. pratfalls and farts, sexual innuendo with the subtlety of a hammer in the eye. That, for many, and not that unintellible Greek stuff, was real art--and they would travel many difficult miles to see one.

I think one of the problems is that many readers read to relax, so they want entertainment. They might like the illusion of depth or something new to learn, but that had better be short and tantalizing more than historically correct. The Da Vinci Code being a prime example: I heard person after person rave about the book and then end with how informative it is, and I have to bite my tongue not to point out the howlers--both in prose and in historical context.

Students will (perhaps with an attitude more stoic than enthusiastic) approach a difficult text because that's the context of school. And a passionate or skilled teacher can gradually win their interest and then their enthusiasm. (I will never forget my sixth grade teacher who took the time to play bits of Zauberfloete for a couple of months previous to the L.A. Shrine Auditorium doing their single day "cultural effort" for the local schools. Most of that packed theater was full of noisy kids who were glad to get out of school but otherwise bored, but here and there were classes like ours, just ordinary blue collar kids, but we knew the story, we knew everyone's theme music, we knew the jokes, and we all listened with attuned ears to see if the Queen of the Night actually hit that high C or not, and were thrilled when she did--clapping hard, and gaining puzzled and affronted glances from the kids around us who were wondering what the fuss was about.)

Anyway, I think it's more difficult to get adults who regard themselves 'past school' and who regard reading as a leisure activity, to tackle a challenging text. I have seen it done, but when people on-line do it, they begin with a "I want to do a group reading of Finnegans Wake. Who's on?"

[intertext.livejournal.com]

Thank you for your long, thoughtful reply. A lot of what you say is true, and I know the "highbrow/lowbrow" divide is not a new phenomenon. And while I was writing, I was thinking - well, the serious writers, photographers, artists, whoever, are going to go on doing what they want whether it is popular or not and whether it sells or not.

I think what bothers me most is the kind of dismissal that comes with "I didn't like it." (read: therefore, it's bad). I hated the movie The Tin Drum, but know enough about moviemaking and other things to recognize that it was brilliant and extremely "good" (read: high artistic quality). And these thirty second reviews on Amazon and elsewhere are just feeding into the "I didn't like it, therefore it's bad" school of thinking, or not thinking, which is more to the point.

After I wrote this, I was thinking to myself that one area where detailed, considered, reviews continue even in relatively "popular" culture is food writing. There, the writer outlines certain criteria of judgement, and measures the dish, or the restaurant, against them. Noone really cares whether the writer "likes" fish or not - and "I enjoyed this" is subsidiary to "this was extremely well prepared, as I know because I am an expert in this and can tell you why" Why are we not "allowed" to do this any more in book or movie reviews?

Not to say that such thoughtful reviews don't exist, just that only a limited group of people actually read them, so that they are preaching to the converted.