I am cynical. Very few ideas and stories can catch my
attention and make me excited or enraptured. I’m so in love with story that
I’ve grown picky about which stories I invest in. When I read stories by
“amateur” writers, the new ones, I find myself thinking derisively simply
because they make mistakes or have clichés in their stories that should be so
blaringly obvious and somehow they miss them.
It’s a fault of mine, a fault I dislike to admit, but must.
I hate it.
Most of the time, I long for the days back when I didn’t
care whether the story was unique or if the setting was well-described or if
the characters were flesh and blood and carried through poignant arcs. Back in
the days when a simple story could entertain me, when a plot I’d read a dozen
times before never got old. Where I could read the same book seven times in a
week and not get bored of it. Where the wonder was never lost on me.
Not anymore. Now I’m critical of everything and I dislike
more than I like…
Why?
I didn’t intend to end up this way. So where did this come
from, this lack of enjoyment?
The Source of Criticism
We all have our moments of cynicism. Those times where we
look at something and our lip curls a little and we go “I don’t like it”.
Sometimes, it’s from valid reasons: a movie is poorly made, or it’s filled with
unnecessary gore and completely lacks a story. Other times, we just don’t like
something. We prefer a different kind of music or we didn’t like that
particular song because of its message or whatever it may be. Regardless of the
quality, we don’t like it.
Each sort of criticism has its time and place. It’s okay to
dislike a movie because it lacks a story (in fact, I wish that more people
disliked them, so that they won’t be made anymore and we’d be left only with
movies that have stories… it’d be a step up from what we have now). It’s okay
to have music preferences.
Sometimes, however, it’s easy to forget that there are times
and places to abandon our sense of “everything must be excellent” and realize
that it’s okay for there to be things that are “so-so”. It’s okay for there to
be “catchy songs” with a fun beat but lacking in ultra-deep lyrics.
It makes me wince to type that, because part of me refuses
it.
I don’t want that to be true. I want there to be only good
songs, with quality lyrics and well-written music and deep meanings, beautiful
meanings. I want only movies that engage and amaze and rip the emotions out of
you.
Criticism is an
expression of a desire for excellence. It’s wanting everything to be good.
But when the only thing you are is critical, you begin to lose sight of where excellence is. You lose sight of “potential”.
Early I noted that I read the work of “amateur” writers and
smirk at them. Writers who are just starting, who’ve maybe written one “novel”,
if that. It’s hard for me to say, because I don’t really mean to. I want to like their stories. I want to encourage them, to
show them that I care and that I want them to succeed. I do. I mean… I’ve got a
blog that’s basically directed toward helping them do what they do better.
I’m a critic. I’m
here to say “I didn’t like this because ___”. The longer I stay in that “critic
mode”, the harder it is for me to get out of it. Sometimes I’ll be stuck in it
for days at a time, unable to ignore the errors and the wrongs and the
imperfections in everything.
And I ignore
potential. Potential is a powerful thing. It’s where excellence comes from,
where the thing that critics desire most originates. Without potential, nothing would ever come of anything. As the song
from Sound of Music goes, “Nothing
comes from nothing, nothing ever could.”
Leaving Criticism Behind
The hardest part of being a critic is knowing when to stop.
When to stop pointing out problems and start pointing out strengths.
It’s not just in the realm of novels that this applies, or
movies or music. It can bleed from the realm of art into the realm of life
(because oftentimes they are one and the same). We criticism each other as much as we critique art and entertainment.
We sum each other up and find others wanting. It’s a dangerous action, which
can and often does result in pain. But we keep doing it.
It’s okay to be a critic. It’s okay. In fact, it’s fantastic to be a critic, to be able to
look at something critically and realize “this isn’t art, this is meaningless”.
To realize “there is no story here” or “I’ve seen this story told a dozen
different times, and more originally than this”. Those are intellectual
benefits that people need.
At the same time, however, criticism takes away our wonder. We abandon the potential of the
things around us to chase after the excellence we’ll never find because we
ignore its source.
So.
Today, let’s practice putting down the cynicism and the
criticism. Let’s look around with
wonder, let’s consider the potential first, the weakness second. Today, find
the wonder.
This intrigues me in how similar it is to a Christian view of the identity of sin: a good desire/action/etc. disordered.
ReplyDeleteThat was sort of in the back of my mind as I wrote this... the philosophy of critical thought and cynicism is such an interesting topic.
DeleteI love this post. -thumbs up-
ReplyDelete