We mentioned in our previous articles that there are two
main agendas in criticism. In one of them, criticism functions as a consumer
guide, informing the reader about the price, quality, category and nature of
the object. Though this agenda informs, to a greater or lesser degree, reviews
of almost everything, poetry criticism does not share in it at all.
The other main strand of criticism goes by the name of
‘cultural criticism’ (roughly, at least – I don’t want to start haggling with
people about the precise definition and/or schools of ‘academic’ cultural
criticism). This is the type of material you find in the more intellectual
sites; in its purest instances, it shows no interest at all in the question of
whether an item of representation is ‘good’ or not. Instead, it is dedicated to
a process of analysis, breaking the text down into its constituent parts and revealing
its many layers of signification. This is something very different from
consumer guidance. In it, the critic is undertaking a process that the reader
does not have the means, or perhaps the time, to do in person. The critic
exposes him/herself to the work of art multiple times, absorbing it, looking at
it in the light of different possible readings, and taking the time to research
the history and references behind it; s/he is not simply reporting his/her
response to the text (‘I enjoyed it’, ‘I found it boring’, etc.), but providing
a new, contextualised and researched interpretation.
The primary role of this type of criticism is to extend the
ideological discussion beyond the work of art itself. For many people, the
experience of seeing a film ends when they walk out of the cinema. But for
those with a deeper interest, engaging with a film means opening a discussion,
one which is internal as much as it is social, and one which does not end after
the first viewing, but rather furthers itself in many different platforms. It
is, among other things, part of an ongoing desire to educate oneself.
None of this should come as some kind of novel or innovative
description to anyone who knows a little bit about criticism, and it would
probably not be worth writing an article about the ‘intellectual’ register were
it not for the one thing that makes poetry criticism unique in this context. To
put it concisely, the role of poetry criticism overlaps with that of poetry
itself – more so than it does in any other art-form. What do I mean? Well, let
us consider a few of the functions of intellectual criticism.
Criticism must educate the taste of the reader, not simply
cater to it. It must give a voice to those who do not have one, and this
includes any type of minority group; it must also point out instances in which
they are being discriminated. It must make us aware of the agenda that lies
behind a text, so that it must reveal both the dominant ideology and the
language that said ideology uses to manipulate our preferences, choices and
actions. It must provide the dispassionate perspective in a forum which may
otherwise be steered by interest, money and power. Finally, it must bring our
attention to smaller artists or works of art, which demonstrate promise and
quality but do not have the means to promote themselves on their own.
With the exception of the very last line, everything that has been said of criticism could
be said of poetry as well. Certainly much of it could be said of art in
general, but it is especially true with poetry, which has a unique contiguity
of form with its criticism. While film reviews are usually not made in film,
and music reviews are not put down in song (though that would make for an
interesting scenario), literature and literary criticism both express
themselves through language. Novels are alike to their reviews in that they’re
both predicated on language, but even then, the novel is essentially defined by
a narrative – and that’s where it irreparably divorces itself from the review.
Poetry, by contrast, has – in purely formal terms – very
much in common with criticism. In both cases, we are dealing with a compact
expression of thought, communicated through language. Thus, anything that a
poetry review can do, is also something that a poem can do. The opposite,
however, does not hold true – though poetry already does everything that
criticism can do, criticism most certainly cannot do all the things that poetry
can do; and in this sense a poem can be much more than an expression of thought
(it can also express, for example, emotions, values and beliefs).
From this point of view, the fact becomes of special
interest that poetry is also the most self-referential of all arts.
Contemporary poetry overflows with citations, paraphrase and intertextual objects
coming from other poetry, both ancient and modern. In fact, often the game is
precisely that of figuring out how a poet’s apparently simple statements are in
reality a clever critique of other, more established modes of poetry (see the
many modes and subtexts of love poetry).
In other words, to a certain extent poetry already reviews
itself. This poses a convoluted challenge to the critic – how do you place
your review in a discourse that is already reviewing itself? There is no
straight answer (alas). A critic must always enter into a dialogue with the
collection under scrutiny – and it is in every sense of the word a dialogue, in a way which, as we
mentioned, no other art can replicate. But the best way to lead (and eventually
report on) that dialogue is something that depends on the individual critic as
well as the particular collection. It also depends on who you’re writing for
and where your review is going to be published. Though this is not something I
personally like to read in other people’s articles, I’ll have to say it – for
this particular question, there is no right or wrong answer.
That said, although the challenges posed by the overlapping
of poetry and criticism have no universal solution, there is also at least one
way in which this idiosyncrasy helps us. Poetry and criticism are both
responsible for providing social commentary; thus, poetry criticism is almost
meta-criticism, inasmuch as it is an (ideally) socially engaged response to an
(ideally) socially engaged response. This is helpful for a very simple reason:
it means we can use some of the same standards when reading poetry that we
usually apply to criticism.
You can say that a film is ‘entertaining’ or that a game is
‘fun’, but you wouldn’t really say such things of a good review (except perhaps
hatchet jobs, but those are a special case). Instead, what seems to matter in a
review is that it is informative and well-researched; those of an excellent
review, that it challenges preconceptions and shows things in a new light, that
it demonstrates an original, independent approach and that it is engaged with
the world in which it takes place. All of those things should be true of a good
poetry collection as well.
So, even though you may sometimes be a little put back by a collection’s
ability to incorporate whatever argument you’re trying to make in your review,
you can also use this to your advantage. If you are uncertain whether a given
type of praise is adequate for a poetry book, run this little test. Ask
yourself, ‘is this something that I would also say about a good piece of
criticism?’ If the answer is no, as it would be for colourful but purely
descriptive adjectives (this collection is ‘musical’, ‘scintillating’,
‘eclectic’, ‘sparkling’, ‘exciting’, etc.), then it might be a good idea to
reconsider what type of argument you’re making.
This is not something that always and necessarily holds
true, of course, and it’s not like those adjectives should be banned from
reviews or anything. But it’s an amusing detail to be aware of, as it only
really subsists in poetry criticism, and sometimes it can help to make things
clearer: if you are building your review entirely
on the descriptive terms, then you’re probably just writing film / game / music
criticism that happens to be about a poetry collection. And this is something
very different from genuine poetry criticism.
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