[net.sf-lovers] critics

moreau%babel.DEC@decwrl.ARPA (08/19/85)

From: moreau%babel.DEC@decwrl.ARPA  (Ken Moreau, ZKO2-3/N30 3N11, DTN 381-2102)


Bill Ingogly writes:

>Fact: Gerald Jonas writes a column in the NYTBR every other week. He
>hardly trashes every SF book he reviews. Another fact: I believe
>   [some text omitted]
>                              I see some of the hostility toward
>'critics' in this newsgroup arising from the perception of SF as a
>popular genre, and a certain resentment that the 'eggheads' are seen
>as either (1) choosing to ignore SF or (2) choosing to say bad
>things about SF as a matter of course. 

Sorry, I never said that NYTBR trashes only SF, I said they trash 
anything which I seem to like.  I also never said that 'eggheads'
are ignoring or saying bad things about SF.  My points about critics
were (and are) completely general, not limited to SF, literature,
Broadway, or any other field.  The feeling seems to be common to
critics in every field.  I agree that some critics (at least of NYTBR
and a few other places) do not apply different standards to SF, but
I disagree with their standards when they review anything.
 
>                                            You're welcome to your
>opinions, but don't assume you've found some great 'truth' or that
>anyone who doesn't agree with you doesn't belong in this newsgroup
>(there have been replies to some of my postings, for example, that
>questioned my 'right' to post in this newsgroup because of my
>'incorrect thinking').

But my whole point is that there is no such thing as "great 'truth'".
I don't assume I found it, I deny that it even exists!  I welcome 
other opinions because I enjoy these discussions.  As someone or
other said a while ago, (possibly paraphrased) "I completely
disagree with everything you said, but I will defend to the death
your right to say it".


Brad Templeton writes:
 
>I suspect that the use of "art" as a pejorative stems from the fact
>that quite often material is passed off as art when it is quite
>simply *BAD*.
> 
>What Spider Robinson (an author whom I dislike, btw) may be trying
>to say is that truly superb art involves excellent communication
>skills as well.  You may have something valid to say about emotions
>or the human condition, and you may be able to convey it to a few
>who think as you do, but an artist of great skill conveys it to all.
 
Thank you for saying what I meant, better than I said it.  Critics 
(and most self-proclaimed artists who do not have the skills to back
up their pretensions) seem to feel that "It is great art because I
*SAY* it is great art, and if you don't understand it and agree with
me, you are an uncultured barbarian" (see Mr. Tuckers comments, below).


Davis Tucker writes:
 
>In most places in the world, to say that something is "great art" is
>a compliment. To you and Spider Robinson (author of such art as
>"Harry Callahan's Crossroad Five-Guys-In-A-Bar-Trade-Stupid-Puns-
>And-Act-Superior-And- Incredibly-Sophomoric"), it is an insult. 

*WRONG, WRONG, WRONG, WRONG, WRONG*.  I said that art and a good read
are orthoganal, and that I preferred one of them over the other.  I
*NEVER* said that one is superior to the other, because (see above)
I deny that the concept of "great truth", or "absolute standards" by
which to measure superior, even exists.  I also never said that I do
not like great art, but (as Brad Templeton points out) most of the
stuff touted as *ART* is not art, it is bad.  I like and appreciate art.
But I won't depend on some pompous critic (or even you, Mr. Tucker) to
tell me that some piece of sh** is art simply because I don't
immediately like or understand it.  If it is art (and to me that is a
very select, very praiseworthy term), then it will be immediately
obvious to everyone. If it is not, then it fails the test, and no critic
can sneer at my taste enough to make me admit it is art. 

>                                      But to champion a "good read"
>over "great art" is very, very egocentric. It also belies an
>inferiority complex about one's ability to appreciate art and uphold
>one's personal standards as opposed to lying down and accepting the
>tyranny of entertainment. Many definitions of great art encompass
>being a "good read", but this quality is but a portion of what it
>takes to write a great novel. 
 
It seems to me that if I am "accepting the tyranny of entertainment",
you are accepting the tyranny of critics.  And I agree that being a
good read is but a portion of what it takes be a great novel.  But
most of what critics have touted to be *GREAT NOVELS* have not had
that portion, have not been a good read in addition to whatever else
you may require to judge something great.  

I seems to me that you are attacking the very action you are trying to
defend.  I am confident in my "ability to appreciate art and uphold
one's personal standards". But when I defend that standard, you accuse
me of being egocentric. 

>Spider Robinson... (the sound of spitting in derision and disgust)
>   [some text omitted]
>purposefully ignorant attitude.  These hedonistic tendencies will
>leave you with little fulfillment, less enlightenment, and no 
>understanding of the world outside D&D games and national news 
>programs. 
>   [some text omitted]
>          ...     A backward, Luddite, barbarian attitude   ...
>   [some text omitted]
>                             Spider Robinson's championing of ease
of reading over depth of feeling is simple laziness. 
>   [some text omitted]
>          ...        semi-mindless entertainment      ...
>   [some text omitted]
>          ...        the lazy or the proudly ignorant. ...
>   [some text omitted]
>"I am ignorant, I am proud of it, and I shall remain blissfully so". 
 
Isn't it nice that we are keeping this discussion on an high-level and
serious track, without resorting to insult and personal attacks?

	    						Ken Moreau

kwc@cvl.UUCP (Kenneth W. Crist Jr.) (08/20/85)

	I do not see why people get so upset when critics say what is good
and what is bad, what should be read and what should not. The only critic I
have ever found who knows what I like and don't like is me. I have not read
any of those "WHAT'S WRONG WITH SCIENCE FICTION" since Part II (I wasn't on
the net for part one) and if you disagree with what the writer writes, don't
read it.
	As for whether a story is ART or a GOOD READ, WHO CARES? If you like
it, good, you have just enjoyed a fine story. If you don't, you don't. I wish
people would stop taking what "critics" think so seriously.


						Kenneth Crist
						Computer Vision Lab
						University of Maryland

reiher@LOCUS.UCLA.EDU (08/22/85)

From: Peter Reiher <reiher@LOCUS.UCLA.EDU>


Ken Moreau writes:

>But I won't depend on some pompous critic
>(or even you, Mr. Tucker) to tell me that some piece of sh** is art
>simply because I don't immediately like or understand it.  If it is
>art (and to me that is a very select, very praiseworthy term), then
>it will be immediately obvious to everyone. If it is not, then it
>fails the test, and no critic can sneer at my taste enough to make
>me admit it is art.

I hope that you don't mean that, once you've decided that it doesn't
meet your qualifications for art, then you cannot be persuaded.  If you
do, then you are being rather narrowminded.  Good critics persuade, they
do not browbeat.

I disagree that great art is immediately obvious to everyone.  You yourself
said earlier that you don't believe that there are absolutes in art, so how
can you be sure that anyone else will agree with you when you say something
is great art?  If it's only great art if everyone agrees, then I imagine that
nothing is great art.

What I find most disturbing is your contention that, if one doesn't immediately
recognize the value of a work, or if a book isn't a good read, then it is
not a great work of art.  The reason I find it disturbing is because I know,
from my own experience, that this isn't true (for me, at least).  Therefore,
I suspect that you are denying yourself some of the deeper pleasures of reading
in favor of shallower and more transitory pleasures.  (I could, of course, be
wrong.  Perhaps you have read books like "The Sound and the Fury" and "Ulysses"
and been immediately blown away by what good reads they were.  I had to work
at understanding and appreciating them, but I don't regret a moment of that
labor.)  If, of course, you really don't care about such books, if you only
are interested in reading works which appeal to you from the moment you
pick them up, that's your prerogative.  My objection is that, despite your
claims that you don't believe in absolute standards, you impugn those who
disagree with you, by suggesting that they are pretentious, that they have
less understanding of art than you, that they don't really like what they
say they like, etc.  If you are secure in your beliefs, than perhaps a less
emphatic and sneering tone would be better.


And Power.wbst@Xerox.ARPA writes:

>Finally, as you can see by my definition, it doesn't include
>reviewers, archivists, or SF-librarians.  

A close examination of his entire posting suggests to me that Mr. Powers'
definition of Critic (his idea of a insulting term) is any person making
comments on a work of art whose comments he consistently dislikes.  I, for
one, do not agree with his article, nor with his veiled suggestion that
Critics have caused writers in the mainstream of fiction to lose their
inventiveness.  True, there is little enough originality on he bestseller
list, but if one looks, one can find interesting, stimulating, original
writing outside science fiction.  For those who haven't tried looking,
I suggest doing so, and will be happy to provide a list of authors to
start with.

        			Peter Reiher
				reiher@LOCUS.UCLA.EDU
        			{...ihnp4,ucbvax,sdcrdcf}!ucla-cs!reiher

brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) (08/26/85)

> From: Peter Reiher <reiher@LOCUS.UCLA.EDU>
> 
> 
> Ken Moreau writes:
> 
> >But I won't depend on some pompous critic
> >(or even you, Mr. Tucker) to tell me that some piece of sh** is art
> >simply because I don't immediately like or understand it.  If it is
> >art (and to me that is a very select, very praiseworthy term), then
> >it will be immediately obvious to everyone. If it is not, then it
> >fails the test, and no critic can sneer at my taste enough to make
> >me admit it is art.
> 
> What I find most disturbing is your contention that, if one doesn't immediately
> recognize the value of a work, or if a book isn't a good read, then it is
> not a great work of art.  ..................................................

Waaaaaiiiit a minute.  I saw you palm that card.  Imediatly recognizing
the value of a book is not the same thing as said book being a good read.
It is my considered (and I do mean considered) opinion (and I do mean
opinion) that to be great art a book must be, first of all, a good
read.  If something is sufficiantly inaccessible that it cannot be
read for fun, it fails as art because it will only speak to that
small segment of the population that is already prepared to listen;
its exploration of (if I may) the human condition is wasted on those
who could otherwise get the most out of it.  Something that is ONLY
a good read is something that I can respect (there's so much that
isn't even that), but, for me, great literature must be a good
read and more.

One test of literature that I'm particularly fond of is: how
long is the author remembered?  This isn't one hundred percent;
not matter how hard I try I cannot convince myself that Cooper
was writing great literature.  BUT--what writer who is remembered
and, more, STILL READ after a hundred years failed to write
stories or books that were fun to read?

I have no patience for intellectual arrogence, which leads us to:


> ....  Perhaps you have read books like "The Sound and the Fury" and "Ulysses"
> and been immediately blown away by what good reads they were.  .............
> 
> And Power.wbst@Xerox.ARPA writes:
> 
> 
>         			Peter Reiher
> 				reiher@LOCUS.UCLA.EDU
>         			{...ihnp4,ucbvax,sdcrdcf}!ucla-cs!reiher

I will confess, hanging my head and whimpering, that I
have not read THE SOUND AND THE FURY.  I have read
ULYSSES.  It fails as great literature.  It speaks only
to the inellectual elite.  This isn't bad; the intellectual
elite could use some speaking to, but great literature
must be inclusive, not exclusive.

I wish I were good enough that I could have written ULYSSES.
But I say that the same way one says, "I wish could afford
an elephant."  I don't want the elephant, I just wish I
could afford one.

Nevertheless, I agree with a great deal of what you said.
Good writing can be found anywhere, from children's books
to the "literary" genre.  Perhaps there is outstanding
writing in romances, or westerns, or even pornography.

But the point about critics is this: I believe that
good writing must be accessable.  But "accessable"
varies from person to person.  I also believe that it
is reasonable to discuss writing in terms of certain
standards that transcend "I liked this" or "I didn't
like this."  THAT is the role of a critic.  A good
critic.  The role of the bad critic is ego fullfillment.
I think Gene Wolfe is accessible.  I know others who
don't.  I think Wolfe's BOOK OF THE NEW SUN may
prove to be great literature.  Others don't.  The
subject happens to interest me.  A good critic, whether
or not I agree with him, will help me organize the
issues in such a way that will help me decide, and,
MUCH more important, get more out of the book.  And
I want to get more out of the book.  It was so much
fun to read. . . .

			-- SKZB

judith@proper.UUCP (Judith Abrahms) (09/03/85)

In article <> brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) writes:
>It is my considered (and I do mean considered) opinion (and I do mean
>opinion) that to be great art a book must be, first of all, a good
>read.  If something is sufficiantly inaccessible that it cannot be
>read for fun, it fails as art because it will only speak to that
>small segment of the population that is already prepared to listen;
>its exploration of (if I may) the human condition is wasted on those
>who could otherwise get the most out of it....  

Do you mean that if a large no. of people can't understand it, it can't be
great art?  And if you have to work to understand it, ditto?  You might argue
(as many did when Joyce, Eliot, and Pound first published) that it's perverse
and snobbish to pour a great talent into the production of work that's more or
less opaque to the average *contemporary* reader.  Such work may show a
certain lack of social or political concern on the part of the artist, but I
don't see why that makes it bad art.  Anyway, what about older books?

Most of the works of literature -- not all, but most -- from which I've learned
most about the human condition and so forth were books I had to read quite a
few times before I felt comfortable enough with them that I could say I was
having fun.  How much fun is Hamlet the first time around?  And after you've
gone through it many times, and it's begun to occupy a special place in your
thinking about the world (if it does), is "fun" really the right word for what
you finally get out of it?  A great many books that have changed my way of
looking at things were lots of fun from the moment I picked them up, but plenty
of them repaid a bit of study.  Sometimes it was even worth reading the works
the author read in order to get a better sense of his/her way of seeing things.

>One test of literature that I'm particularly fond of is: how
>long is the author remembered?

By whom?  Homer's work is a hell of a lot of fun once you get into it.  So are
the Canterbury Tales; so's a lot of Shakespeare, for that matter.  How much of
this stuff would have survived at all if it hadn't been preserved and taught in
the schools?

>       ... what writer who is remembered
>and, more, STILL READ after a hundred years failed to write
>stories or books that were fun to read?

All these people wrote works that were fun to read, but they didn't STAY fun to
read when their languages ceased to be current.  At this point, if it's more
than a hundred years old, either you do a little studying or you miss a lot.
And the further back you go, the less accessible the writing gets, until (as in
the case of Shakespeare) you're missing allusions to matters that were as
common then as the six o'clock news is now -- like the way cloth is woven, the
way a sailing ship works, who all the Greek gods were, and so on.  Or (as in
the case of Chaucer) all of the above, plus the fact that you're virtually 
looking at a foreign language.  Or (as in the case of Homer), the fact that you
ARE looking at a foreign language.  

>                                  ...  I have read
>ULYSSES.  It fails as great literature.  It speaks only
>to the inellectual elite.  This isn't bad; the intellectual
>elite could use some speaking to, but great literature
>must be inclusive, not exclusive.
>
>I wish I were good enough that I could have written ULYSSES.
>But I say that the same way one says, "I wish I could afford
>an elephant."  I don't want the elephant, I just wish I
>could afford one.

Joyce trained to write ULYSSES by reading a lot of difficult books and
studying a few languages.  He moved to Europe from Ireland chiefly because
the culture he was born into was too provincial to allow him access to the flow
of invention and inspiration that was sweeping the Continent at the time.
I mention this because many of my favorite science fiction writers have studied
relatively inaccessible works (references to Joyce, to Pablo Neruda, to Jung,
to dozens of "mainstream" writers, abound in the work of Zelazny, for instance)
and the richness and depth of their style, and of their ideas, seem to me to
have benefited from the scope of their investigations.

>But the point about critics is this: I believe that
>good writing must be accessable.  But "accessable"
>varies from person to person.  

And varies over time.  What was inaccessible to me in sixth grade is easy going
now.  I once wanted to be able to write ULYSSES too, but at this point -- as
you suggested -- I just wish I had a fraction of the capital with which Joyce 
bought his elephant.  I believe the way to save that up is to read books by 
writers with interesting styles and interesting ideas.  Some of them are hard 
going and others are great fun, but that's no measure of what I get out of 
them in the long run.

I suppose I'm saying that in order to have good writers, you have to have good
writers -- not hard writers or easy ones, just good ones.  I think if you
insist that a work be easy reading and fun (RIGHT AWAY!), you may not be giving
it a chance.

One of the reasons I enjoy reading the newsgroups is that, just as in more
formal publications, people write well here.  I just can't believe such good
writing has developed without at least some study of our language and
literature.  I think I know what the work of people who read only "fun stuff"
looks like: as an editor, I'm often called on to reorganize their writing for
publication.  To my knowledge [!!!] I've never seen clear, fluent, 
interesting writing from someone whose first criterion for choosing a book was
that it be accessible.  If that's what I'm looking at now, well, it's never
too late to learn.

Judith Abrahms
{ucbvax,ihnp4}!dual!proper!judith
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Poetry is certainly something more than just good sense, but it must be good
sense... just as a palace is more than a house, but it must be a house.
               					-- Coleridge
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) (09/10/85)

> Do you mean that if a large no. of people can't understand it, it can't be
> great art?  And if you have to work to understand it, ditto?

No and yes.  

> You might argue
> (as many did when Joyce, Eliot, and Pound first published) that it's perverse
> and snobbish to pour a great talent into the production of work that's more or
> less opaque to the average *contemporary* reader.  Such work may show a
> certain lack of social or political concern on the part of the artist, but I
> don't see why that makes it bad art.

There is a clear and present danger that we will soon find
ourselves attempting to define "art."  I would enjoy the effort,
but I enjoy futile persuits.  However, a work that is opaque to
the average contemporary reader is never, in my opinion, great art.
It is fine if the reader has to work at it; it is flawed if
the reader has insufficant reason to want to. 

> Anyway, what about older books?

I don't understand.  What about them?
 
> 
> ...........  How much fun is Hamlet the first time around?

Quite a bit, in my opinion.  Shakespear can be enjoyed on any
number of levels.  One can also learn vast amounts from him.  But
can always be enjoyed, even the first time one sees one of his
plays, or even reads one (if you happen to be someone who
can read a play).


> 
> >One test of literature that I'm particularly fond of is: how
> >long is the author remembered?
> 
> By whom?  Homer's work is a hell of a lot of fun once you get into it.  So are
> the Canterbury Tales; so's a lot of Shakespeare, for that matter.  How much of
> this stuff would have survived at all if it hadn't been preserved and taught in
> the schools?

We have no disagreement here.  All of the things you have
just mentioned are things that I consider to be great art.

Fun, aren't they?


> 
> >       ... what writer who is remembered
> >and, more, STILL READ after a hundred years failed to write
> >stories or books that were fun to read?
> 
> All these people wrote works that were fun to read, but they didn't STAY fun to
> read when their languages ceased to be current. 

Here we just disagree.  I can't think of anything else to say.

> 
> >But the point about critics is this: I believe that
> >good writing must be accessable.  But "accessable"
> >varies from person to person.  
> 
> 
> I suppose I'm saying that in order to have good writers, you have to have good
> writers -- not hard writers or easy ones, just good ones.  I think if you
> insist that a work be easy reading and fun (RIGHT AWAY!), you may not be giving
> it a chance.

I don't "insist" on that, and I do, in fact, read authors who
force me to work and are not enjoyable.  These people are craftsman
in their own way.  But I do not call them artists.  What they
produce just isn't good enough.  And this distinction--what is
and is not art--actually matters to me, for what reasons I'm
not sure.  I am sure of opinions on what makes for great art--
just as I am sure that these opinions will change, perhaps into
their opposite, as I continue to read and think about what I've read.


> 
> One of the reasons I enjoy reading the newsgroups is that, just as in more
> formal publications, people write well here.  I just can't believe such good
> writing has developed without at least some study of our language and
> literature.  I think I know what the work of people who read only "fun stuff"
> looks like: as an editor, I'm often called on to reorganize their writing for
> publication.  To my knowledge [!!!] I've never seen clear, fluent, 
> interesting writing from someone whose first criterion for choosing a book was
> that it be accessible.  If that's what I'm looking at now, well, it's never
> too late to learn.
> 

If there is an implication here that I write well, thank you.  You,
too.  The points you raise are well taken.  But I continue to
disagree.  I'm glad I read Moby Dick.  There was a lot to it.
But it failed as art.  Huckleberry Finn did not.  There was
as much going on underneath, but Twain didn't leave the roof off
his house.  It had a top level--fun--that was there too.  Melville
should have had an editor with a big blue pen.  It wasn't fun.
I don't think it will last.  I could (always always always) be wrong.

			-- SKZB



> Judith Abrahms
> {ucbvax,ihnp4}!dual!proper!judith
> ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> Poetry is certainly something more than just good sense, but it must be good
> sense... just as a palace is more than a house, but it must be a house.
>                					-- Coleridge
> ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*** REPLACE THIS LINE WITH YOUR MESSAGE ***

nrh@lzwi.UUCP (N.R.HASLOCK) (09/11/85)

In article <247@hyper.UUCP>, brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) writes:
> > Do you mean that if a large no. of people can't understand it, it can't be
> > great art?  And if you have to work to understand it, ditto?
> 
> No and yes.  
> 
My contribution to this discussion is a simple ( very difficult )
question. What is art? What is the artistic content of the medium that
we(?) are discussing?

A work of literature has both structure and style. The structure is the
story being told, with all its subplots, twists, turns and final 
resolution. The style is the way in which the reader is exposed to the
structure, or the the way the author hides the structure from the
reader.

Note: These are my definitions for the purposes of my comments. Feel
free to use them if they make sense to you.

> > You might argue (as many did when Joyce, Eliot, and Pound first
> > published) that it's perverse and snobbish to pour a great
> > talent into the production of work that's more or
> > less opaque to the average *contemporary* reader.
> 
> There is a clear and present danger that we will soon find
> ourselves attempting to define "art."  I would enjoy the effort,
> but I enjoy futile persuits.  However, a work that is opaque to
> the average contemporary reader is never, in my opinion, great art.
> It is fine if the reader has to work at it; it is flawed if
> the reader has insufficant reason to want to. 
> 
> > Anyway, what about older books?
> 
> I don't understand.  What about them?
>  
What is opaque? Obviously it must be the style, otherwise we would
be seeing comments about books with no story. The question is, how
much story is left if we take away the style and would it be worth
reading? ( I cannot comment here, not having taken the time to read
the works in question ). Given that a lots of the 'Classics' have
been abridged and otherwise munged into child readable form while
most of the specified authors have not, I would suspect that there
is not enough story to make it worth the effort.

For me, great art should have both style and structure and the two
should complement each other. Experiments with style may be fun for
the author and interesting for the literate but without a
complementing structure, the result is unlikely to be great art.
> > 
> > >One test of literature that I'm particularly fond of is: how
> > >long is the author remembered?
> > 
> > By whom?. ....  How much of this
> > stuff would have survived at all if it hadn't been preserved and taught in
> > the schools?
> 
> We have no disagreement here.  All of the things you have
> just mentioned are things that I consider to be great art.
> 
> Fun, aren't they?
> 
But does this not give us a training in what is supposed to be great
art? Do not all of these things have a worthwhile story as well as a
unique style? Have not all of these stories been rewritten for
children on the basis of the story alone, resulting in non art.

> > >       ... what writer who is remembered
> > >and, more, STILL READ after a hundred years failed to write
> > >stories or books that were fun to read?
> > 
> > All these people wrote works that were fun to read, but they didn't STAY
> > fun to read when their languages ceased to be current. 
> 
> Here we just disagree.  I can't think of anything else to say.
> 
I disagree too, look at some translations where the translator has
succeeded in applying a currently acceptable style to the work.
For example Magnus Magnusson's translations of the Icelandic sagas.

> > I suppose I'm saying that in order to have good writers, you have to
> > have good writers -- not hard writers or easy ones, just good ones.
> > I think if you insist that a work be easy reading and fun (RIGHT AWAY!),
> > you may not be giving it a chance.
> 
> I don't "insist" on that, and I do, in fact, read authors who
> force me to work and are not enjoyable.  These people are craftsman
> in their own way.  But I do not call them artists.  What they
> produce just isn't good enough.  And this distinction--what is
> and is not art--actually matters to me, for what reasons I'm
> not sure.  I am sure of opinions on what makes for great art--
> just as I am sure that these opinions will change, perhaps into
> their opposite, as I continue to read and think about what I've read.
> 
No one if forced to read a book, ( after leaving school ) and
writing books that are difficult to read merely reduces the
readership. If the book is an experiment with a new style, then
there is no problem. Just remember that style can be display as
easily in a short book as in a long book. If the purpose of the book
is to familiarise the readership with the style so that the author
can later write his masterpiece in his new and difficult style, then
the book should be only long enough to do that.

Producing a long book in a difficult style that is unfamiliar to the
authors readership is pointless unless the book is also fun. It will
never be recognised as great unless someone, probably someone else,
works exceptionally hard to make that particular style popular.
> > 
> > One of the reasons I enjoy reading the newsgroups is that, just as in more
> > formal publications, people write well here. I just can't believe
> > such good writing has developed without at least some study of our
> > language and literature.  I think I know what the work of people who
> > read only "fun stuff" looks like: as an editor, I'm often called on
> > to reorganize their writing for publication.  To my knowledge [!!!]
> > I've never seen clear, fluent,  interesting writing from someone
> > whose first criterion for choosing a book was that it be accessible.
> > If that's what I'm looking at now, well, it's never too late to learn.
> > 
Surely, 'clear, fluent, interesting writing' is 'accessible' because
it is clear, fluent and interesting. Maybe I missed something?
> 
> I'm glad I read Moby Dick.  There was a lot to it.
> But it failed as art.  Huckleberry Finn did not.  There was
> as much going on underneath, but Twain didn't leave the roof off
> his house.  It had a top level--fun--that was there too.  Melville
> should have had an editor with a big blue pen.  It wasn't fun.
> I don't think it will last.  I could (always always always) be wrong.
> 
> 			-- SKZB
> > Judith Abrahms

There is simply too much written material for me to be able to read
it all in the space of this lifetime. If a book is seriously flawed,
I will need a very compelling reason to read it.

Simplistic style and simplistic plotting may still contain neat
concepts that make the 90 minute invested worthwhile.

If may favourite reviewers cannot find anything good to say about a
difficult book then I will probably not bother to open the cover and
I will find something else to call art.
-- 
--
{ihnp4|vax135|allegra}!lznv!nrh
	Nigel		The Mad Englishman or
			The Madly Maundering Mumbler in the Wildernesses

Everything you have read here is a figment of your imagination.
Noone else in the universe currently subscribes to these opinions.

"Its the rope, you know. You can't get it, you know."

wfi@rti-sel.UUCP (William Ingogly) (09/11/85)

In article <247@hyper.UUCP> brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) writes:

>> Do you mean that if a large no. of people can't understand it, it can't be
>> great art?  And if you have to work to understand it, ditto?
>
>No and yes.  

So a book can be 'great art' if many people can't understand it, but
can't be great art if it requires work? Consider the subclass of books
that you'd call 'great art.' By your answers to above questions, some
of those 'great books' are beyond the abilities of many people to
understand them. But these impenetrable books have to be accessible to
fit your criterion for 'great art.' How can they be impenetrable and
accessible at the same time? Is this like a Zen koan? ;-)
 
>...  However, a work that is opaque to
>the average contemporary reader is never, in my opinion, great art.
>It is fine if the reader has to work at it; it is flawed if
>the reader has insufficant reason to want to. 

Semantics: the relationships between signs and symbols and the
concepts, feelings, etc. associated with them in the minds of their
interpreters. What you're doing here is stating a personal definition
of art (and what's more GREAT art). Stating an idiosyncratic
definition doesn't redefine a term for society at large. Furthermore,
a term like 'great art' can have an interpretation agreed upon by a
subgroup in society that differs from the interpretation that's
considered commonly accepted. Which definition is 'correct,' and does
correctness have any meaning in this context? The answer is not as
immediately obvious as you seem to want us to believe.

Consider, for example, the loaded term 'secular humanist.' If a group
of people decide to create a new symbol like this and use it regularly to
describe reality their very use of the symbol tends to lend it a
certain credibility. Perhaps the media-concocted term 'yuppie' is a
perfect example. Many people's belief in this creature is supported by
the fact that media people seem to believe it exists (or created it to
sell newspapers and magazines).

As human beings, we use symbols to partition the world and make sense
of it. But it's easy to confuse the symbol with reality: creating a
symbol like 'yuppie' doesn't automatically imply that a creature that
fits the definition of yuppie is real. And my use of the symbol is no
guarantee that everyone else uses it in the same way. The confusion of
the symbol with the symbolized is one reason why people come to believe 
in a term like 'yuppie' without bothering to question whether it 
describes something that really exists as a discrete and unambiguous 
category of objects. We change our own perception of reality to an 
extent through our creation and manipulation of symbols: a study of 
an American Indian society that recognizes a different set of primary 
colors than the Anglo's Roy G. Biv found that its members were very 
good at recognizing fine shades of blue-green (one of their primary 
colors) but not as good at recognizing fine shades of blue or green 
(our primary colors). The situation was reversed for members of 
Anglo-American society (note: for anyone who's interested I think 
this was a study by Benjamin Whorf; someone will correct me if I'm 
wrong).

The argument over 'great art' is an argument about the meaning of a
symbol. Our understanding of the word 'art' is conditioned by cultural
forces as well as personal. Made objects in other societies may look
aesthetically pleasing, and stories told in other societies may be fun
to listen to. But the fundamental relationship between human being and
made object/story may be profoundly different than what we're used to.
A story may be given ritual embellishments that are pleasing but are
intended to please the gods rather than the listeners, for example.
And a battle-axe may be given intricate carvings to increase its
ritual power or simply because the society believes that's the way a
battle axe SHOULD look. There ain't no such animal as 'art' in the 
sense of an object or category that has reality as a primary attribute. 
'Art' describes a relationship that exists between a member of a 
culture and the objects of its own creation. Anyone who's interested 
in this might want to check out "The Savage Mind" by Claude 
Levi-Strauss. What Steve Brust is doing here, it seems to me, is 
coming up with his own personal symbol for the reader/book relationship 
and asking us to accept it as superior to other symbols for that 
relationship that many other members of society use. The only reason 
a phrase like 'great book' exists is that one or more persons decided 
to invent it to describe a class of objects. Its use says nothing 
about the existence or nonexistence of that class of objects, just 
as saying 'shiftless welfare moochers' does not automatically cause 
an underclass to spring into existence. Mr. Brust has one definition 
of 'great art' which he defines for us here at some length. The 
term means something different, however, to many of the rest of us 
who happen to share this culture with him. A consensus on its meaning 
(if there is one) would define certain attributes that indicate a 
great book. Lasting power is one that's often mentioned, but more 
fundamental is perhaps the illumination of those characteristics that 
define us as human beings: the meaning of life, love, and hate in 
human relationships; the growth and decay of societies and cities; 
and so on. It's our recognition of our own passions, strengths and 
weaknesses in Shakespeare that many people believe is responsible 
for his continued success as a writer over the centuries, not that 
he's 'fun to read.' 
 
>I don't "insist" on that, and I do, in fact, read authors who
>force me to work and are not enjoyable.  These people are craftsman
>in their own way.  But I do not call them artists.  What they
>produce just isn't good enough.  

Now you're redefining 'craftsman' and 'quality' for the rest of us. I
think you believe a little too strongly in the power of your personal 
definitions, Steve. Your refusal to call them artists has little to do
with the conventionally accepted definition of art, and you're going
to have to go a lot farther to prove to us that it's worthwhile
scrapping a definition most people agree on for your own idiosyncrasy.

The bottom line would seem to be that you equate working for something
with drudgery and art with fun. I'm sure you've known people who enjoy
work and feel that art is drudgery. Your attitudes may be related to
the division in our society between labor and leisure. Since you see
reading and art (perhaps) as leisure time activities, any suggestion 
that work might be involved in reading a particular 'work of art'
causes you to eliminate it from the category of possible 'great
books.' But the division between labor and leisure in our society has
to do with our economic system; it doesn't mean that abstract entities
called 'labor' and 'leisure' really exist (for those who are
interested in this topic, there was a philosopher who wrote a book
about this; it has 'Leisure' in its title, and may have been written
by Karl Popper. I'm sure your local library has it). One man's labor is
another's leisure; the personal computer is a perfect example. I
happen to enjoy the work I put into reading a 'difficult' book; it's
part of the 'fun' of reading it for me.  

>...  The points you raise are well taken.  But I continue to
>disagree.  I'm glad I read Moby Dick.  There was a lot to it.
>But it failed as art.  Huckleberry Finn did not.  There was
>as much going on underneath, but Twain didn't leave the roof off
>his house.  It had a top level--fun--that was there too.  Melville
>should have had an editor with a big blue pen.  It wasn't fun.
>I don't think it will last.  I could (always always always) be wrong.

I know several people beside myself who ENJOY Melville and think he's
fun (two of them are old Navy men and sailing buffs). It's full of the 
sea, wisdom, and a hell of a sense of humor. The scene where Queequeg 
(sp?) crawls into bed with Ishmael for the first time is amusing to me 
as is the initial scene where Ishmael talks about getting the 'hypos' 
and hitting out for the open sea. I IDENTIFY with Ishmael, laugh with 
him as I recognize a common and primordial human experience, and as a
result I have (believe it or not) FUN when I read the book. What you're 
talking about is your own personal preferences and prejudices, not 
about qualities people can use to reach a consensus on to define 
what's 'great art' and what's not.

As to Moby Dick's 'lasting:' it was written (I think) in 1835 or
thereabouts. How many novels continue to have admirers and readers who
enjoy them after 150 years?

                                -- Cheers, Bill Ingogly

brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) (09/12/85)

> 
> For me, great art should have both style and structure and the two
> should complement each other. Experiments with style may be fun for
> the author and interesting for the literate but without a
> complementing structure, the result is unlikely to be great art.

This is, I think, the essence.  Given a story to tell,
or a theme to explore, a writer may choose from an infinite
number of structures that will handle it.  Only one, in any
given case, is the best.  While form and content (terms I'm
more comfortable with) may be discussed separately, content
determines form.  It is the interaction (and, frequently,
the conflict) between them that allows knowledge to develop.

And as for what is art, try this for part of the
definition: the process of exposing the underlying contradictions
that are hidden in mundane life through crafting a work
that is esthetically (sp?) pleasing.

			-- SKZB

chen@mitre-gateway.arpa (09/12/85)

From: Ray Chen (MS W420) <chen@mitre-gateway.arpa>


From: proper!judith@topaz.rutgers.edu (Judith Abrahms)
Subject: Re: critics
Date: 3 Sep 85 12:57:57 GMT

brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) writes:

>>It is my considered (and I do mean considered) opinion (and I do
>>mean opinion) that to be great art a book must be, first of all, a
>>good read.  If something is sufficiantly inaccessible that it
>>cannot be read for fun, it fails as art because it will only speak
>>to that small segment of the population that is already prepared to
>>listen; its exploration of (if I may) the human condition is wasted
>>on those who could otherwise get the most out of it....

and proper!judith@topaz.rutgers.edu (Judith Abrahms) responds:

>Do you mean that if a large no. of people can't understand it, it
>can't be great art?  And if you have to work to understand it,
>ditto?

Judith and others,

An old English teacher of mine once gave me a prerequisite
for classic literature.

Basically, a classic piece of literature should be able to be
read at many different levels.  It should be like an onion with
many different layers (but no bad spots).  You should be
able to read it for fun and enjoy it one time and be able
to read it for something deeper some other time and enjoy it as well.
When reading a classic piece of literature, you should get out
of it what you put into it.  There should be deep and profound
ideas, conflicts, etc. in the novel for those who are willing
and able to look for them.  Yet, there should also be
something for those who only want solid entertainment.

Shakespeare, for example, in his time was a very popular playwright,
and not because his plays were thought to be that good or profound.
(In fact, a lot of people looked down him and his work.)  He was
well liked because his plays were FUN.  There were sexual innuendos,
puns galore, and slapstick humor throughout all his plays.  They
just don't appear that obvious to us now, because we don't know
Elizabethan slang.

Homer's epic poems, too were passed down orally long before they
were ever written down.  Somehow, I doubt that generations of
Greek tribesmen memorized them because they were "Art".  They
memorized them because they appealed to people at many different
levels.

I don't think that being a good read automatically makes a book a
literature.   There are a lot of books out there that are fun, but
don't have the content to be considered literature or art.

However, I do think that literature should be a good read.  

	Ray Chen
	chen@mitre-gw

judith@proper.UUCP (Judith Abrahms) (09/16/85)

In article <> chen@mitre-gateway.arpa writes:
> [quotes me here:]
>>Do you mean that if a large no. of people can't understand it, it
>>can't be great art?  And if you have to work to understand it,
>>ditto?
>
>Judith and others,
>
>Basically, a classic piece of literature should be able to be
>read at many different levels.  It should be like an onion with
>many different layers (but no bad spots).  You should be
>able to read it for fun and enjoy it one time and be able
>to read it for something deeper some other time and enjoy it as well.
>When reading a classic piece of literature, you should get out
>of it what you put into it.  There should be deep and profound
>ideas, conflicts, etc. in the novel for those who are willing
>and able to look for them.  Yet, there should also be
>something for those who only want solid entertainment.
>
>Shakespeare, for example, in his time was a very popular playwright...
>...He was well liked because his plays were FUN.  There were sexual innuendos,
>puns galore, and slapstick humor throughout all his plays.  They
>just don't appear that obvious to us now, because we don't know
>Elizabethan slang.

But we still read the plays of Shakespeare, despite the fact that most of his
puns, sexual innuendoes, and slapstick humor are lost on us unless we study his
writing.  (Of course, a lot of this does come across in stage productions by
directors who know the work well and can give visual cues as to what the
increasingly difficult language means.)  But we don't READ Shak. because he's
the same spinner of rollicking hilarious yarns TO US that he was to his less
educated contemporaries.  That was exactly the point I made when I said that
the classics may have been great fun when they were contemporary, but that as
their language and their references become increasingly obscure to us, we read
them with more difficulty and for different reasons.  For that matter, we still
read the sonnets of Shakespeare, and I don't believe they're susceptible of
being read on your "onion" model; they don't work as easy doggerel and also as
compact, dazzlingly inventive, intricate constructions of nested metaphors that
economically illuminate the depths of human emotion.

My point, which I tried to make in my earlier post, is that neither you nor I
nor Steve Brust IN FACT is committed to reading only works that give immediate
pleasure and are capable of appealing to a wide variety of people on a great
no. of levels.  We all love Shakespeare, and we love him more when we know 
what he's referring to in those metaphors that are no longer current.  I used
him as an example because he's the classic case of the difficult work that's
worth studying, the work whose obscurities -- once investigated -- are 
transformed into sources of new light on the deepest places of the human heart.

And the more general point I tried to illustrate with this example is that if
so many of us find Shakespeare worth working through, even though his writing
has become difficult to understand, it's certainly possible that more recent
writers, who simply don't bother to write at a level accessible to any high
school graduate, are also worth the effort.

As William Ingogly recently pointed out, there are definitions of "fun" that
denote other activities than the mindless enjoyment of a work that makes no
demands on the reader.  The work of deciphering an elegant little program,
which does in three lines what I'd only been able to do in six, is incredible
fun, for a variety of obvious reasons: I learn something about programming, I
feel the presence of the other programmer & rejoice that I have found someone
I can learn from, and thereby improve my own creations; and I simply feel joy
at watching the great trapeze act that is an agile mind moving in perfect
grace among its creations.

I get exactly the same feeling when, after ten or so readings of William
Gaddis' _JR_, which is almost all dialogue, I begin to be able to tell who's
talking and where the plot's going at almost all points in the book, and begin
to be sure that everything's perfectly connected and there are no loose ends
in over 700 pages.  After about 5 readings, I began to see that almost all of
this book was overpoweringly funny, too... but that's not the level I began at.
I got into it because I was tantalized by the idea that an author could 
entirely abandon the whole stream-of-consciousness tradition and show nothing
but dialogue, and yet make that dialogue so consistent that with a bit of
attention I became able to tell at almost all points who was speaking, and
about what.  THEN the fun began.

You just never know until you get in a little way.  And I don't feel it's a
writer's obligation to put a sugar coating of easy, fun, helluva-good-read
stuff on the outside of the work to draw the reader into the recesses of his/
her view of the depths of human reality.  Nor do I believe a reader should
expect him/her to do so.  It makes more sense to me to develop my abilities
to watch the sheer mastery of language and idea that our most brilliant writers
invariably display, and, if I see that going on in a book, to go on and 
investigate the possibility that it also has a plot, ideas, humor, characters
I can identify with, and so forth.

Why should a novel or a play be required to provide instant gratification in
some way, then to draw the reader into more profound levels of discourse?
This has never been required of poetry, or at least not since poetry moved
away from the song form in the Middle Ages.  And it's still not required of
those "classics" which almost all of us read, and read in translation.

If we're willing to go after the fun that's still in the Odyssey, by reading
translations of it, and we don't condemn it for being difficult in its "raw"
form, i.e., in Greek, on what grounds are we to condemn a recent work that's
difficult the first time around?  If we read an annotated version of 
Shakespeare in order to appreciate the humor of the plays, does that make him
less of a "great" writer?

If we're to go on seriously with this discussion, we might consider working out
-- by consensus -- a set of working definitions of the terms we're bandying
about.  It makes little sense to me to speak of "accessible" literature, "art"
literature, "fun," and "good reads," when these words obviously refer to 
different works depending on who's using them.  There exist more exact terms,
used routinely in the work of criticism of all kinds.  For example, the term
"entertainment" normally means anything -- a book, a piece of music, a TV show
-- that gives immediate pleasure, essentially to everyone, and makes no demands
on a typical mind that has developed in our culture without making any special
effort to train itself to process recreational input.  The word "art" is 
usually used to denote work that assumes rather more education on the part of
the consumer, and more willingness to assume an active role in pulling meaning
or pleasure or anything else out of it.  It we use these terms, we may then say
very simply that entertainment is by definition fun.  We may also say that some
art is, or includes, or may be taken to be, entertainment, and that some art
isn't, doesn't, and isn't.  We can allow Steve Brust to reserve the use of the
term "great literature," in his private lexicon, for description of art that
doubles as entertainment and hence gives pleasure to more people than art that
doesn't.

But all this juggling of subjective judgments -- "Well, *I* had fun with 
Hamlet" ... "I found Ulysses hilarious!" ... "Melville is great fun!" ...
"This work FAILS as literature, because it wasn't fun [for me]." ... is getting
us nowhere.

Judith Abrahms
{ucbvax,ihnp4}!dual!proper!judith

pete@stc.UUCP (Peter Kendell) (09/16/85)

Summary:
Expires:
Sender:
Followup-To:
Distribution:
Keywords:
Xpath: stc stc-b stc-a

In article <3633@topaz.RUTGERS.EDU> chen@mitre-gateway.arpa writes:

>Shakespeare, for example, in his time was a very popular playwright,
>and not because his plays were thought to be that good or profound.
>(In fact, a lot of people looked down him and his work.)  He was
>well liked because his plays were FUN.  There were sexual innuendos,
>puns galore, and slapstick humor throughout all his plays.  They
>just don't appear that obvious to us now, because we don't know
>Elizabethan slang.

        E.g. "country matters" in Hamlet.

        Having seen several Shakespeare performances by the Royal
        Shakespeare Company in London and Stratford, and also by
        the National Theatre in London over the last year, all I
        can say is that Shakespeare transcends all the arguments
        about 'Art' V. 'Entertainment'.

        Seeing a London audience literally creasing itself laughing
        at "Love's Labours Lost" last month sent shivers up and
        down my spine (I was laughing too!!). I mean, these were
        400 (or so) year old lines that not only meant something
        but were also funny. Now, *that* is an achievement.

        "Richard III" last year in Stratford was possibly the most
        extraordinary play I have ever seen. Etc, etc.

        Now here's my 2p's worth in the Great Debate:

        Surely, a great and lasting work is one that works on many
        different levels.

        The upper level may be a simple story, song or farce; easily
        assimilated. But when you've finished it you think - "Wait.
        I think there was more to that than first appears." So you
        read, listen or look again. And you find more. And you find
        that every time you go back to it you find something new, or
        a different way of looking at it. Or you find that your way
        of looking at the world has changed.

        This can't happen if the work is not accessible at the upper
        level. In fact, many may not want to go any further or even
        suspect that there is further to go, and yet it will still
        have been satisfying for them. Some may take a short-cut
        through the upper levels and go straight to the deeper
        meaning. If there is nothing below the upper, visible, level,
        then what you have may be entertainment, but it's not art.

        Naming some examples of what I mean is self-defeating;
        everyone has had this sort of experience. A typical example
        is an exciting adventure story that turns out to be an
        allegory *AS WELL*. An allegory by itself is unutterably
        tedious.

        Quality and craftsmanship ARE absolutes - a well-made table
        is one that is good for putting things on, is visually
        satisfying, and carries on being both these things. A
        badly-made table looks trashy and falls apart in use.
        Similar criteria apply to any man-made thing, be it a table,
        your rewrite of 'ls' or a SF (or other) novel.

        Now go and take a 5 minute break,
-- 
	Peter Kendell <pete@stc.UUCP>

	...mcvax!ukc!stc!pete

	'Give it all you can,
	 It's much better than,
	 The prefabricated concrete coal bunker!'

	Who ? When? Answers on a postcard or stuck-down envelope.

jimb@ISM780B.UUCP (09/16/85)

>> For me, great art should have both style and structure and the two
>> should complement each other. Experiments with style may be fun for
>> the author and interesting for the literate but without a
>> complementing structure, the result is unlikely to be great art.

>This is, I think, the essence.  Given a story to tell,
>or a theme to explore, a writer may choose from an infinite
>number of structures that will handle it.  Only one, in any
>given case, is the best.  While form and content (terms I'm
>more comfortable with) may be discussed separately, content
>determines form.  It is the interaction (and, frequently,
>the conflict) between them that allows knowledge to develop.
>
>And as for what is art, try this for part of the
>definition: the process of exposing the underlying contradictions
>that are hidden in mundane life through crafting a work
>that is esthetically (sp?) pleasing.

>                        -- SKZB


A mild demure on one point.  The statement "only one (structure), in any
event is the best" assumes that the "best" is definable, recognizable, and
agreed upon.  Each structure will yield a unique combination of effects;
which combination of effects is the best depends on auctorial intent, which
is something that even the author may not be consciously aware of, and the
aggregate perceptions of the readership, which is culturally determined and
will vary with time and society.

That many classics are widely agreed to be be great works is only indicative
that the authors struck pretty close to dealing with raw universal truths
that seem [so far] to transcend time and culture.

      -- can I borrow a cute tag line from anyone --  Jim Brunet

		  decvax!cca!ima!jimb

		  ucbvax!ucla-cs!ism780!jimb

		  ihnp4!vortex!ism780!jimb

franka@mmintl.UUCP (Frank Adams) (09/17/85)

[Not food]

Perhaps we should admit that 90% of all criticism is crap.


Frank Adams                           ihpn4!philabs!pwa-b!mmintl!franka
Multimate International    52 Oakland Ave North    E. Hartford, CT 06108

brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) (09/23/85)

> .......................................  But we don't READ Shak. because he's
> the same spinner of rollicking hilarious yarns TO US that he was to his less
> educated contemporaries.  That was exactly the point I made when I said that
> the classics may have been great fun when they were contemporary, but that as
> their language and their references become increasingly obscure to us, we read
> them with more difficulty and for different reasons.  For that matter, we still
> read the sonnets of Shakespeare, and I don't believe they're susceptible of
> being read on your "onion" model; they don't work as easy doggerel and also as
> compact, dazzlingly inventive, intricate constructions of nested metaphors that
> economically illuminate the depths of human emotion.
> 

This is important enough to the point of the discussion that I think it
worth hitting on.  My point is exactly that--Shakespear IS fun, the
very first time.  If fifteen-year-old Stevie hadn't seen a production
of Midsummer Night's Dream that left him in stitches, then a production
of Macbeth that left him depressed but triumphant, he would never have
taken the time to look for the rest of what is there.  I won't comment
on the sonnets; I know even less about peotry than I do about fiction.

I should admit here, though, that whoever it was who claimed to
have really enjoyed ULYSSES on the first reading very neatly
cut the rug out from under most of my arguments.  Good going,
whoever that was.  I been nailed.

> 
> Why should a novel or a play be required to provide instant gratification in
> some way, then to draw the reader into more profound levels of discourse?
> This has never been required of poetry, or at least not since poetry moved
> away from the song form in the Middle Ages.  And it's still not required of
> those "classics" which almost all of us read, and read in translation.

It is exactly what IS required, or at least present, in
those few of the classics that "almost all of us read."
As I say, I know little of poetry, but are you quite sure
of what you say here?

> 
> ..........................  We can allow Steve Brust to reserve the use of the
> term "great literature," in his private lexicon, for description of art that
> doubles as entertainment and hence gives pleasure to more people than art that
> doesn't.
> 

Well, this point (first brought up, I believe, by Mr. Ingogly) is
certainly hitting me where I live.  I hate it when people promiscuously
redefine words to make their own points, so I don't enjoy being
accused of doing it.  Especially when, looking back over my own
contributions, it seems I really have.  I will now procede to back
down and, I hope, build up to my point again.

Writer's who give me the impression of conciously and
deliberatly writing over the heads of much of their
audience annoy me.  In attempting to find the reason
for this annoyance, and so determine if it is my
problem, their problem, both, or neither, I have come
to certain conclusions.  This question actually matters
to me on a very practical level.  I need to know, for
myself, "what makes good writing."

The conclusions I have come to are, brifly summarized,
good (fiction) writing is that which exposes and lays
bare areas of life that are normally hidden, and does
it in using language that can be understood.  You mention
the classics: can you name one art form (painting, music,
etc) in which those works which are now regarded as the
classics were not, at the time, entertainment for the
masses?  Doesn't this indicate something?


> But all this juggling of subjective judgments -- "Well, *I* had fun with 
> Hamlet" ... "I found Ulysses hilarious!" ... "Melville is great fun!" ...
> "This work FAILS as literature, because it wasn't fun [for me]." ... is getting
> us nowhere.
> 
> Judith Abrahms
> {ucbvax,ihnp4}!dual!proper!judith

Oh, I don't know.  I'm enjoying it.  I'm also learning
something.

		-- SKZB

wfi@rti-sel.UUCP (William Ingogly) (10/04/85)

In article <250@hyper.UUCP> version B 2.10.2 9/18/84; site rti-sel.UUCP version B 2.10.2 9/18/84; site hyper.UUCP rti-sel!mcnc!philabs!cmcl2!harvard!seismo!hao!hplabs!tektronix!uw-beaver!cornell!vax135!houxm!ihnp4!stolaf!umn-cs!hyper!brust brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) writes:

>> Why should a novel or a play be required to provide instant gratification in
>> some way, then to draw the reader into more profound levels of discourse?
>> This has never been required of poetry, ...
>
>It is exactly what IS required, or at least present, in
>those few of the classics that "almost all of us read."
>As I say, I know little of poetry, but are you quite sure
>of what you say here?

Before the 20th century, poetry used almost exclusively auditory
mechanisms to convey its meaning. Thus, virtually all poetry was
pleasing to the ear. This includes poetry written in the language of
the common man (e.g., Burns, Whitman, etc.). It's possible to read
all of this stuff and enjoy the surface music, I think, without really
getting into what it MEANS or how the music supports the meaning. This
is similar to the surface enjoyment one gets from listening to Mozart
(say) without knowing anything about music. 

But getting into music OR poetry at this surface level does not give
one an appreciation for what the artist is really doing. Consider the
Shakespearian sonnet (quoted from memory, so please forgive me, W. S.,
if I've mangled your poetry):

         That time of year thou may'st in me behold
         When yellow leaves, or none, do hang upon
         The bough and shake against the cold...

Read it aloud; it sounds good, doesn't it? But a surface appreciation
of the music gives you nothing of the poem's meaning: it might as well
be in Swahili. The poignancy of the poem's central metaphor, of the
poet's life considered as though it were the season of winter with the
associations with endings of things and death, and the resonance
between the fall of leaves and the fall of hair or loss of function,
and of the palsy of the aged contrasted against the palsy of the last
few leaves of the year shaking in the icy wind, comes from a careful
consideration of associations in the reader's mind as he reads this
sonnet. Finally, the reader comes to appreciate the way the music of
the poem supports the message W. S. is trying to get across.

Many (I hope most) of us are trained in school to appreciate at least
some poetry on these levels. It's WORK to read a poem this way; it's
also the way the poem was intended to be read. And a large part of the
enjoyment of a poem is seeing the different levels hang together as an
organic unit. 

Is 20th century poetry any different? A lot of it contains
considerable music, even contemporary stuff; try reading John
Ashbery's "A Wave" out loud, for example (there are also 20th century
movements whose practitioners produce poems that contain little or no
music: the concretists, for example -- check out Gene Wolfe's poem 
"Meteor" published (I think) in some anthology or other). Getting at 
the meaning can be tougher. Many contemporary poets are interested in 
the way language acts as a barrier between reality and our understanding 
of reality, for example; in his modern classic, "Crow," Ted Hughes 
uses the fall from grace in the Garden of Eden as a metaphor for 
humanity's fall from primal innocence due to the acquisition of 
language. Should these poets avoid dealing with these issues because 
they're difficult? Should they water down the very stuff of poetry 
itself so their audiences don't have to work quite so hard to understand 
them? I personally find understanding 20th century poetry a lot of 
work, but the rewards are also considerable.

>The conclusions I have come to are, brifly summarized,
>good (fiction) writing is that which exposes and lays
>bare areas of life that are normally hidden, and does
>it in using language that can be understood.  

Agreed. But except for highly personal symbols, ALL language can be
understood; it's just a matter of the amount of work you have to put
into the understanding of the language.

>You mention
>the classics: can you name one art form (painting, music,
>etc) in which those works which are now regarded as the
>classics were not, at the time, entertainment for the
>masses?  Doesn't this indicate something?

Until fairly recently, virtually all Western art was funded by and 
produced by an educated and well-heeled elite. This tradition goes 
all the way back to the 11th and 12th century trobadours, who adopted an
anti-Church stance for the benefit of the well-educated members of the
court, NOT for the benefit of the peasantry. The only art works
produced specifically for the understanding of all society in those
days were the great cathedrals of Europe. Popular art, oral stories, and
music had little to do with the entertainments of the well-to-do
educated elite that ran society. 

As near as I can remember, drama in Shakespeare's time descended from
certain crude popular entertainments at sacred and profane festivals;
the morality plays, for example. They weren't considered 'art' by the
educated class. My recollection may be faulty in these matters, but I
think Shakespeare's generation of playwrights may have been the first
to produce entertainments that functioned on more than a crude and
superficial level as 'literature.' And Shakespeare was certainly the
best of his contemporaries. Drama may have been different than the
other arts in this regard because of its origins as an entertainment
by and for the uneducated peasantry.

Except for drama, most of the arts remained in the domain of the
educated until the European Romantic movement in the early 19th
century; Romantic poets and theoreticians like Wordsworth, Shelley,
Burns, Keats, etc. glorified the simple life of the common man and
used ordinary language in their poetry rather than the highly stylized
language prevalent in classical poetry. The Romantic movement had a
profound effect on our perception of the proper stuff of literature
and poetry, and in that sense was subversive. Walt Whitman's heroic
stance was a legacy in part of the Romantic tradition.

If you look at who was reading what poetry (and literature) well into
this century, however, I think you'll find a clear split between the
literature of the educated elite and the literature of the masses.
Most kids were taught accessible poets like Longfellow and Poe, for
example, and most working class kids quit going to school after a few
years. Volumes of 'popular poetry' abounded; we used to have one in my
parent's house. The only people reading the 'literary' contemporaries
like Eliot and Frost by and large were the people who finished high
school and went on to college: i.e., the upper middle and upper classes.

How are things different today? For one thing, the proliferation of
the paperback has made all kinds of literature more accessible to
anyone who's interested in it. Also, there's been a general spreading
of education to the general public since World War II due to the GI
Bill and the increased availability of higher education to bright 
working class kids. The presentation of opera and dramatic productions
of quality on television since the 1950s has made great art available
to anyone who has access to television. I grew up in a working class
family. It's unlikely a working-class kid like myself would have had
an opportunity to develop a taste for drama except for the fine 
productions that were put on in the 1950s. There's been a general
democratization of the availability of the arts in the last 35 years,
which is a good thing.

So I think the perception that the 'classics' were intended at the time
of their production as entertainment for the masses is based on a
faulty understanding of the history of the arts in Western society
over the last few hundred years.

                                -- Cheers, Bill Ingogly

brust@hyper.UUCP (Steven Brust) (10/14/85)

> 
> But getting into music OR poetry at this surface level does not give
> one an appreciation for what the artist is really doing. Consider the
> Shakespearian sonnet (quoted from memory, so please forgive me, W. S.,
> if I've mangled your poetry):
> 
>          That time of year thou may'st in me behold
>          When yellow leaves, or none, do hang upon
>          The bough and shake against the cold...
> 
> Read it aloud; it sounds good, doesn't it? But a surface appreciation
> of the music gives you nothing of the poem's meaning: it might as well
> be in Swahili. 
> 

We seem to be pretty much in agreement here.  My point is and was
that literature ought to do both (tastes great! Less filling!).  As
far as I can tell you agree.  Correct?

> 
> >The conclusions I have come to are, brifly summarized,
> >good (fiction) writing is that which exposes and lays
> >bare areas of life that are normally hidden, and does
> >it in using language that can be understood.  
> 
> Agreed. But except for highly personal symbols, ALL language can be
> understood; it's just a matter of the amount of work you have to put
> into the understanding of the language.

I'll go along with that.  The only thing left out is:
to what extent is it the artist's responsibility to make
you WANT to put in a lot of work, and how can an artist
best go about it.  We seem to disagree here, and I believe
we have both stated our positions fairly well.

> 
> >You mention
> >the classics: can you name one art form (painting, music,
> >etc) in which those works which are now regarded as the
> >classics were not, at the time, entertainment for the
> >masses?  Doesn't this indicate something?
> 
> Until fairly recently, virtually all Western art was funded by and 
> produced by an educated and well-heeled elite. This tradition goes 
> all the way back to the 11th and 12th century trobadours, who adopted an
> anti-Church stance for the benefit of the well-educated members of the
> court, NOT for the benefit of the peasantry. The only art works
> produced specifically for the understanding of all society in those
> days were the great cathedrals of Europe. Popular art, oral stories, and
> music had little to do with the entertainments of the well-to-do
> educated elite that ran society. 
> 

I'm not quite certain if we are agreeing or disagreeing here.  My
impressions agree with yours.  It seems to me that most of the
classics of that era (as we consider them today) were produced for
the great cathedrals of Europe, or were part of the oral tradition.
(Homer, Beowulf, etc.).


> 
> So I think the perception that the 'classics' were intended at the time
> of their production as entertainment for the masses is based on a
> faulty understanding of the history of the arts in Western society
> over the last few hundred years.
> 
>                                 -- Cheers, Bill Ingogly

I follow you all the way up to your conclusion.  What am I missing?
Good, interesting stuff, though.

			--SKZB
.