"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?"

I like this

[inaniac.livejournal.com]

Okay, to be serious. This resonates so much with me at the moment. I'm not in literary criticism and I know I'm not qualified to make statements about the relative worth of particular works, but I do know that if a book I read doesn't make me go oh, it could be different, it's pretty well not worth reading except as a soporific. But I sense the same things in my teaching, that there is only a need for surface learning, that we do not need to question. Any teaching we do has to have measurable outcomes and quantifiable answers that can be seen. There's a tendency to want the facts. And with that comes shallow (or no) understanding of the implications.

I have been trying to develop the seeds of critical thinking in students. We get students who come in to classes thinking, oh I know all about computers, I can turn it on and stuff. But the broader implications of a technologised society are not even hinted at. We had a tutor who couldn't see the value of the stuff we were doing. But, we did get students thinking (and if you look at the snippets of their exams I posted, there are some attempts at deeper thought even within the strange turns of phrase used).

Have you seen Epic 2014 (http://robinsloan.com/epic/)? I think this is what you are talking about.

playing devil's advocate

[frumiousb.livejournal.com]

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."

Elitist git, I say, actually.

Who has the privileged view? Who is allowed and entitled to have an opinion? Does the fact that I am an (erratically published) writer give me license to review? Or do I have to be a (regularly) published writer? Or is a literature degree enough? Or do I have to write reviews over 1000 words to matter? Or is it that my reviews have to assume some kind of universal stance of the literary critic?

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...

Don't you think other people feel this way? Particularly people who don't have the class or educational background to dress up their review in the terms of the Academy? "I don't know anything about Art, but I know what I like" is a defensive stance. It implies that criticism might well be aimed at them for their choices. And they are proven consistently right in that regard.

I am *delighted* to see the proliferation of review sites, book clubs, and reader/reviewers. You know why? Because it means that people are reading. I genuinely do not care (much) what they read. People may not go from The Da Vinci Code to Gravity's Rainbow, but they may well go from The Da Vinci Code to John le Carré, and then to Graham Greene. Who knows? If someone fails to tell them that it is difficult to read, they might move on to nearly anything...

And I think that Oprah has done a tremendous job. She has gotten people in my family reading, and reading consistently. She knows how to choose books that will appeal to her audience and makes her choices from a wide range of genres and topics. If I don't like the books that she chooses, so what? It isn't a requirement that I like them. And her effect on the production and promotion of books is no more pernicious than total lack of readership outside of airplane books would be.

When choosing what to buy, I may often read Michiko Kakutani. Or, I may often go see what the Amazon masses have to say. And why not? Sometimes a thumbs up or thumbs down is just as useful in that situation as a well-considered thesis.

Finally, I review for myself, largely. I try to fix ideas in my head about what I have just read. I won't apologize for that, or for the lack of depth or length. I'm profoundly uninterested in meeting anybody's standards except my own.

*****

p.s. I must be the only person in the world who had a great experience with my book club. We were a great mix of academics and business types and had lively discussions about books ranging from Pynchon to the Bible. No problem at all with ambiguity.

p.p.s. Off topic, but I also really didn't like The Bone People. I thought that choosing to mythologize about child abuse was offensive, and that outweighed any positives about the writing for me. I might have preferred any number of less serious books to it as well.