Writing

Blog Hop: Criticism as autobiography

Literary Blog Hop Once a month The Blue Bookcase poses a question to all lit book bloggers. I was excited when I saw this month’s question because it is so timely for me, tying into something I have been thinking about. I read Oscar Wilde’s A Picture of Dorian Gray this week and in the preface Wilde made a statement about critics that knocked me out.

First though, The Blue Bookcase’s question:

In the epilogue for Fargo Rock City, Chuck Klosterman writes:

It’s always been my theory that criticism is really just veiled autobiography; whenever someone writes about a piece of art, they’re really just writing about themselves.

My initial thought on Klosterman’s quote is that it is an intentional exaggeration meant to cause I knee jerk reaction. To say that each critic puts a bit of him or her self in their own writing would be a statement I think most would agree with but to use the word “autobiography” instead is insulting. I also feel the word “veiled” insinuates that a critic is trying to deceive, either themselves or the public.

I believe it is possible to critique a work based on its technical merits and to acknowledge the skill an author has, or has not, to cause an emotional reaction; while at the same time limiting one’s personal experiences and emotions from creeping into a review. I haven’t read Klosterman’s quote in context but standing alone, it comes across as a bit Writer Whine. As if no one else’s opinion on his work matters since they are only critiquing themselves and not Klosterman’s skill as an author.

Having said all that, I do think there is a fundamental truth hiding in Klosterman’s quote and now I have to, very unfairly, compare his quote to Oscar Wilde, who said it so much better.

The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.

I read that quote over again about a dozen times when I came across it in the preface to Dorian Gray. In it Wilde sums up everything I want this blog and my writing to be. It’s also slightly painful to read because I know I simply can’t live up to it every time I write.

Wilde’s quote hits on the same point the Klosterman does when he says “his impression”. Breaking it down into definitions, a critic is one who can render in another language an effect, feeling, or image retained as a consequence of experience.

The personal experience that Klosterman calls “autobiography” is certainly integral in a critic’s writing, as well as an author’s. I wonder if Klosterman would say that every author writes his own autobiography again and again? Couldn’t we take it even further and say that everything written- fiction, non-fiction, and criticism is autobiographical. And does that some how devalue the work?

The difference I see in Wilde’s point of view, is that in his quote the critic’s personality or experiences are used not to write about himself, as Klosterman said, but to write about beautiful things in a beautiful manner.

Note that when I say Beautiful I do not mean Pretty. Hemingway, for example, writes beautifully but not prettily. And to critique Hemingway with pretty prose might be jarring. The best writing about books or art, in my opinion, captures a bit of the original in its style. On the other hand, a critic can write beautifully about a book with many technical faults. It’s much harder though and I’m not sure if it is always worth the effort!

So to sum up, a critic can create his or her own art (not all do) and every creation includes the creator’s point of view. How much of one’s self a critic puts in their own work varies greatly and I do not believe opinion or impression equals autobiography.

Becoming a Writer

I came across the book Becoming a Writer by Dorothea Brande yesterday. It was written in 1934 and goes to show how good advice is timeless. In Becoming a Writer Brande talks not about the technical aspects of writing: characters, plot, sentence construction, but instead about how to move past the mental obstacles that prevent us from writing. Now before you think it, this is not a namby-pamby chicken soup for the writer’s soul. But instead straight forward, useful advice. Brande’s voice is like having an affectionate aunt who also happens to be a professional writer. You sit earnestly beside her drinking up the 30 years of accumulated writing experience that she so easily pours forth. And, she never stops to give you side eye for not already knowing this through some sort of writer’s divine inspiration.

From the introduction:

Ms. Brande points out — with the delightful wit we find everywhere in her book — that for the writer suffering from uncertainty and self-doubt, writing teachers and books about writing, not to mention symposia of famous authors, do to the young (or old) struggling writer just about the worst thing they could do: “In the opening lecture, within the first few pages of his book, within a sentence or two of his authors’ symposium, he will be told rather shortly that ‘genius cannot be taught’; and there goes his hope glimmering. For whether he knows it or not, he is in search of the very thing that is denied him in that dismissive sentence.” Ms. Brande’s purpose in Becoming a Writer is to make available to the writer the very thing usually denied.

She is right that genius can be taught (once the secret emptiness of that phrase is understood) because in fact genius is as common as old shoes. Everybody has it, some more than others, perhaps; but that hardly matters, since no one can hope to use up more than a very small portion of his or her native gift.

In Becoming a Writer, Brande points out that we are not all born writing with ease. Some have to work very hard at writing and that is nothing to be ashamed of. She even notes that some of the most artistic writers are the ones that have the hardest time writing. That the sensitivity that can make a writer great, can also hold them back from ever beginning.

First there is the difficulty of writing at all. The full, abundant flow that must be established if the writer is to be heard from simply will not begin. The stupid conclusion that if he cannot write easily he has mistaken his career is sheer nonsense.

the beginner may be waiting for the divine fire of which he has heard to glow unmistakably, and may believe that it can only be lighted by a fortuitous spark from above.

One of the first writing theories Brande puts forth in the book, is that we each have two writerly sides: our conscious critic/editor and our subconscious imaginative writer. To write with ease she says, you must train each side of yourself so that you can call them up individually when needed. That you must quiet your conscious critic to allow the subconscious freedom to write your story. But also, you must put in the hard work required to bring that subconscious to the forefront on demand. This might sound a little like embracing our auras or something but fear not lol, it’s actually practical advice. If you have ever sat staring at a blank page, feeling like you must beat your head with a club in order for the words to come out, then you are already familiar with the subconscious that Brande wants us to train.

Her first suggested exercise is to wake up a half an hour early each day and write. Write immediately, before reading your email, before flipping on the TV, even before a sip of coffee. This was a little terrifying to me because I am not willing to admit that writing, nor even the whole world, exists before I have had my coffee. The point of writing first thing in the morning though, is to one: to write on demand and two: to write before even the slightest outside influence has infiltrated your brain. Our world is overflowing with words, that hit us immediately from every direction, and Brande wants you to get down your words, in their most natural state.

You will remember that one of the conditions set was that you should not have read one word before beginning the morning’s task, nor, if at all possible, so much as spoken until you have finished. This is the reason. We all live so surrounded by words that it is difficult for us to discover, without long experience, what our own rhythms are, and what subjects do really appeal to us. Those who are sensitive enough to want ardently to become writers are usually a little too suggestible for their own good.

(Her comment on being too suggestible really spoke to me because I have the habit of picking up on the tone, accent, even body language of others in almost a creepy fashion lol.)

When writing in the morning, you are not allowed to edit. You just must pour forth anything and everything that comes to mind. I started this exercise this morning and I certainly did not have anything writerly to say. My first word was: UGH. But I am approaching Brande’s advice with patience and humor. I know it will not come right away and until that time that stories or interesting thoughts start to come out, I will see the silliness in my attempts and not get down on myself about it.

She advises to continue writing in the morning for several weeks and NOT look back on it, no rereading at first. Later we will begin rereading these Morning Writings to pin point our natural style and what themes we frequently write about.

Further on in the book, Brande had some advice that I found particularly interesting, she says to not share your early writing. This is pretty common advice but her reasons for it I had not read before, and that is that once you share and talk about your story, you will become bored with it. It will become a twice told tale and you won’t have the motivation to actually write it down. This has me written all over it lol. I’m so glad she pointed that out.

Much of the advice Brande gives in the book reminds me of Hemingway’s musings in A Moveable Feast

If you can discover what you are like, if you can discover what you truly believe about most of the major matters of life, you will be able to write a story which is honest and original and unique. But those are very large “ifs,” and it takes hard digging to get at the roots of one’s own convictions.

you may at last persuade yourself that it is your insight which gives the final worth to your writing, and that there is no triteness where there is a good, clear, honest mind at work.

 

I’m looking forward working my way through the advice in Becoming a Writer. I find the division between our conscious critic and subconscious writer so interesting. I had not thought of it that way before but I realize that the inner monologue running through my head, constantly recreate or inventing conversations, or stories, or blog posts, is my subconscious writer. I look forward to not only calling it up on demand but also quieting it. Never turning it off completely but pushing it towards the back of my mind to work silently until I am ready for it. One reason I feel like I have to read at night, is because if I don’t my mind runs on endlessly. Sometimes it is exhausting! I must learn control my creative mind and save it for when I am writing. I also realize I need to stop meaningless tasks and sit down and write when the subconscious is on a roll.

If you’re interested, you can read Becoming a Writer in PDF for free HERE