November 9, 2008
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Critics: A Critical Review
Destruction is easier than construction. It is a far simpler task to point to a few of the millions of flaws in another person than to begin the long, laborious task of correcting all your own. It is infinitely easier to show where someone who tried to do something failed, than to try and and succeed in doing something yourself. It is easier to knock down a building than to construct one. It is easier to kill a man than to help one live.
And that is why I do not like critics.
But under the present system of the world the critic is the one who always wins. The negative sportscaster, the sardonic journalist, the booing audience member—they are the ones who seem to always have the upperhand, for they need only point to the faults in another’s effort, while doing nothing themselves, to seem the winner. It is not that the critic compares his target to himself, and thinks himself better—rather he compares his target to perfection, and because his target falls short assumes himself the victor.
According to the assumption of critics, nothing in the world is perfect, so once we are done applying their method to the world evertything is in ruins. So the question we must then ask to the constant critic is, well if not all these ways, then how ought it be done? Who does live the good life? For it seems the critic’s method says, “No, this is not the right way,” all while remaining without answers themself. But process of elimination is surely not the way to find how to live. Rather, the critic tears down everything, and nothing is left standing. It does not reveal the answer.
Rather, the individual ought to ignore the faults in others, of which there are millions, and turn to the faults in himself. Once the critic turns his attention inwardly, he is amazed at the sheer volume of errors he harbors inside himself. But neither he nor any one else ever knew of them, because he had always turned the attention to the faults of others.
That is why, upon being asked to write an essay on what is wrong with the world, G.K. Chesterton quickly scribbled down and returned to the editors who asked him to write the essay:
Dear Sirs,
I am.
Sincerely yours,
G.K. Chesterton
Paradoxically, however, to actually agree with Chesterton, you must disagree with Chesterton. For upon reading his answer we must train ourselves to think, “No he’s not, I am!”
Comments (11)
“in poets as true genius is but rare,
true taste as seldom is the critic’s share.
The two must both from heav’n derive their light–
those born to judge, as well as those to write.”
(from Alexander Pope’s Essay on Criticism. May be slightly misquoted, as I typed from memory…)
Ok, ok…let’s see…
“It is not that the critic compares his target to himself, and thinks himself better—rather he compares his target to perfection, and because his target falls short assumes himself the victor.”
Loved this. The other day I was having a conversation a couple people, and someone swore, and the other person reprimanded her. The person who swore said, “Well, if he hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have had to swear!” I can’t remember what this “he” person had actually done, but I was a little bit amused. What if “he” was thinking the exact same thing about her sins? What if he had decided not to fix himself till other people fixed themselves? Nobody would ever make any progress. I used to think that people had this idea of having “arrived”, so they were better than everyone else…but now I think it’s more that they feel it doesn’t matter how godly they’re acting if there’s someone else out there less godly than them.
Very convicting post….I like
@RoBoChIcA -
That’s exactly right. It’s like if three men each have a gun and each man points his own gun at the next man—then they all pull the trigger and everyone’s dead. Instead they should point the guns at themselves and then … no, wait .. hmm, everyone still ends up dead. Shoot.
@StrokeofThought - Quite honestly, dear friend, I doubt that last command would solve the problem.
∞
P.S. — Steal the ammunition from the gun; turn the insults into fun.
@StrokeofThought -
Ha. Haha. “Shoot.” =P
Hmm…which would be the worse sin…killing yourself, or killing someone else? Not relevant to this topic at all, it just crossed my mind with the whole gun analogy.
@The_Fallen_Eight -
Hahahahahahahaha! Very nice. I imagine an overzealous firing squad chief who receives a message from his superior telling him to cancel the execution at the last second and upon reading it mutters “Shoot.”
I’ve got to learn more about Chesterton—learn anything, I guess. Nearly every quote of his I’ve ever read really strikes a chord, really impresses me.
This is a great post.
“Sardonic.” How I love that word.
The best individuals will build with the bricks others throw at them.
@BooksForMe -
The problem is, all I’ve read of Chesterton just lets me know he’s a genius, without letting me know what he means. Kind of hard to understand. But I will still give Orthodoxy a shot (that’s his best, I hear).
@yello_lego -
I love it, too. That’s two posts in a row I’ve found purposes for it!
Oh yes, I just recalled a quote by one of my favorite writers, Oscar Wilde: “A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.”
“When you shine the light on others, you leave yourself in the dark.”
Criticism can be a dangerous weapon or a helpful tool, depending on how it’s used. Having a person show you where you’re going off can be exceedingly helpful — especially with how difficult it is to consider yourself objectively. (God is the best corrector I know. He doesn’t require objectivity; He only wants you to see yourself as He sees you. Even for the most righteous of people, it’s never pretty and there’s multitudes of flaws to work on. Then, once you see your flaw, He instructs you on how to remedy it.)
I’m very guilty of unwarranted criticism. Although I try to remember never to criticize a flaw unless I can also instruct on how to fix it, that is often forgotten. Especially when my friend and I start discussing movies or books. It’s all too easy to point out bad acting or sloppy plotline. What’s more difficult is to act that part better yourself or to construct a more solid plotline. (Neither of which, I’m sheepish to say, is something I could do.) One must try very hard to remain silent at times. Because it’s better to say nothing, than to speak evil without reason.
Or, as my grandfather used to say, “It’s better to be silent and thought a fool, than to open your mouth and prove it.”