periences which he feels are worth setting down in writing. Again there may be differences of opinion as to the relative importance of the value of content and the value of expression; to some, the latter is the be-all and the end-all of criticism. But in order to cover comprehensively the whole of criticism, all these matters must be considered, and careful consideration should bring us to the conclusion that all are important, although undoubtedly not equally so. The determination of the nature and the relative importance of these values is one of the tasks that lie before us. The relation of criticism to other forms of writing is an interesting problem. Someone has maliciously said that a critic is a creative writer who has failed. This statement has the modicum of truth in it that such generalizations usually have. Pope puts it: Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd; Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last. But we are speaking of good critics, not those who "turn Critics in their own defence." Can the old distinction between criticism and creation be maintained, or should criticism itself be called creative? Is it an art or a science? Is the critic himself an artist or merely the manager or producer who introduces the artist and his work to the public. Writers vary in their answers to these questions. Mr. Mencken, for example, compares the function of the critic with that of a catalyzer in chemistry.14 Amiel says, "Criticism is above all a gift, an intuition, a matter of tact and flair; it cannot be taught or demonstrated,it is an art." 15 Howells, on the other hand, as we have 14 "Criticism of Criticism of Criticism," Prejudices, First Series, pp. 20-21. Journal, translated by Mrs. Humphrey Ward, 2nd edition (London, Macmillan, 1915), p. 250. seen, compares the work of the critic with that of the scientist who classifies and analyzes. Alfred Kerr, in Das Neue Drama, said, "The true critic is ever a poet, a creator." "16 Mr. Spingarn has introduced a term, "creative criticism," which shows on which side of the dispute he stands: his essay on "The New Criticism" is an eloquent justification of the placing of criticism side by side with the work of the novelist or the poet. "The aesthetic critic," he claims, "in his moments of highest power, rises to heights where he is at one with the creator whom he is interpreting." 17 But Mr. Galsworthy says that the critic "is absolutely tied to the terms of the work that he is interpreting, whereas the very essence of creation is that roving, gathering, discovering process of mind and spirit which goes before the commencement of a work of art." 18 And John Gould Fletcher once said that criticism was a reversal of the successful experiment which produced the work of art itself. "17 Again the way out of this wilderness seems to be the middle road. There is something of the scientist certainly in the critic, if our analysis of the critical process is correct, something of the investigator and the gatherer of facts. But (just as there is in the great scientist, as a matter of fact) there is something of the creator also, even in the most judicial of critics. No one could deny that the great impressionistic critic, like Anatole France, is a creator. But even those who do not belong to that school should be artists. In order to understand and feel and enjoy the charm of a work of art, one must have something of the temperament that responds to beauty as the 16 Quoted in Lewisohn, A Modern Book of Criticism, p. 82. Creative Criticism, p. 138. Quoted by Spingarn in Appendix to Creative Criticism, p. 133. See also "Vague Thoughts on Art," in The Inn of Tranquillity (Scribner, 1926), pp. 268-269. artist's soul responds. Someone has said that every man who enjoys poetry is himself a poet. And in order to interpret to the world the work of art which he has enjoyed, he must have something of the power of expression which belongs to the artist; otherwise his criticism would be a dead thing, and all the raptures of his own experience would be useless to any but himself. "To interpret this charm imaginatively," it will be remembered, was the second part of the function of the critic as set forth by the spokesman of the appreciative school.19 This scientific-creative critic is perhaps a superman. Certainly he must be endowed with a large equipment of characteristics, knowledges, and powers. Let us see what this ideal critic must be like, and then remember, for our own comfort, that no man is perfect and that a man's reach should exceed his grasp. The road to good criticism is no easy one. Centuries ago Longinus said, "For the judgment of literature is the final aftergrowth of much endeavor." 20 It is a temptation, in writing of the characteristics of the good critic, to quote long passages from Pope, who compressed into the couplets of his Essay on Criticism much practical and sensible advice that is just as valid today as it was in the eighteenth century. His summary is especially good and comprehensive, and will serve as an introduction. But where's the man who counsel can bestow, Not dully prepossess'd nor blindly right; Tho' learn'd, well bred; and tho' well bred sincere; Who to a friend his faults can freely show, 19 See p. 9. "On the Sublime, Sec. VI. Although allowances must be made, owing to the fact that the Essay was written in the height of the neoclassic period, the whole poem should be read by all who seek to give and merit fame, And justly bear a Critic's noble name. The great trilogy of characteristics that the ideal critic should possess are tolerance, sympathy, and sincerity, and the greatest of these is sincerity. Many other sins may be forgiven a critic or at least condoned if he means what he says; but insincerity is the unpardonable sin. Not many are consciously and of fell intent insincere, although it is possible that the critic may have an axe to grind that will influence his review. Usually, however, the insincerity is unconscious and unintentional. Critics are strongly inclined to follow the crowd; many a book, having been given a start toward popularity by the praise of one authoritative review, is pushed on by successive laudatory criticisms into the position of a best seller. If a truly honest critic ventures to dissent, his voice is drowned by a chorus of praise. And the reader, who is an unofficial critic, feels, if he has not strong convictions and a strong critical sense of his own, that it is the proper thing for him too to like and praise the book. Even though he has some doubts about the goodness of the book, he may feel that it is not "the thing" to condemn it. "Everybody" likes it; therefore he should like it whether he does or not. By such false modesty about our own critical powers, and such fears of being out of the fashion, is the best seller sometimes made. In the estimation both of recent books and of the "classics," it is very difficult to avoid being influenced by what other and older critics have said. A great name on a title page will predispose us to favorable criticism and a name associated with poor work will make us feel that no good can ever come out of Nazareth. It is true, however, that Homer sometimes nods, and that even Bavius may produce a single masterpiece. Our critical senses must be alert to catch the nodding and the spurt of genius. It is no sacrilege to condemn a poem by Tennyson or Shelley or Masefield; it may be a wholesome purging of the altar so that the flame of our worship will burn the brighter. Undiscriminating bardolatry, as George Bernard Shaw calls it in the case of Shakespeare, is simply unintelligent. Another pose that is less venial than that of following the crowd, because it comes from less fundamentally honest motives, is that of being different, of holding oneself aloof from oi oλλol. The professional critic is apt to err in this respect, and the reader, if he has desires to be classed among the intelligentsia, will follow his lead. He praises a book, not because the many admire it, but because the intellectual few have stamped it with their approval. A liking for caviare is a sign of a highly cultivated taste; ergo, we will pretend to like caviare whether we appreciate it truly or not. "To be original and individual," said a young critic once, "is to be different from other people." It is not; it is to be independent of the opinions of other people, be they the majority or the minority. The critic should be, first of all, sincere; in the second place, he should be tolerant. The tolerant man is the truly liberal man, and the liberal is tolerant. The conservative and the radical are equally intolerant: one |