Thanks for the judicious review; I'm much more likely to look into the book now. But I notice that Kincaid's description of Frank McConnell's critical work has something in common with his description of yours. I wonder if he noticed it too.
At any rate, I'm glad you resist the pressure to po-face. Critics inevitably pratfall, either immediately or in hindsight, and my discursive-prose heroes all acknowledged and exploited that built-in clownishness. Those who insist on their dignity, like Ruskin or Harold Bloom, or Matthew Arnold for that matter, are likely to get the response Hepburn gave Grant in "Bringing Up Baby".
Even outside criticism, legitimate scholarship can benefit from keep-the-classroom-awake sparks. Frederic Spotts's terrific study of Occupation France, "The Shameful Peace", made me laugh out loud yesterday while describing a collabo's post-war memoir: "Fabiani was one of those authors who flirts with facts but never gets a date."
Thanks Ray. I agree with you about the dangers of po-facedness, and the sharpness of criticism that is open to sparks and humour. But I'd challenge your bracketing Arnold among the po-faced. He is often very witty, sometimes laugh aloud funny. "Southey's The Curse of Kehama will be read when Homer and Vergil are forgotten. But ... not until then." Arnold's take-down of Newman's translation of Homer is brilliant criticism, and very funny:
"Mr Newman does not leave us in doubt as to the general effect which Homer makes upon him. As I have told you what is the general effect which Homer makes upon me,—that of a most rapidly moving poet, that of a poet most plain and direct in his style, that of a poet most plain and direct in his ideas, that of a poet eminently noble,—so Mr Newman tells us his general impression of Homer. ‘Homer’s style’, he says, ‘is direct, popular, forcible, quaint, flowing, garrulous’. Again: ‘Homer rises and sinks with his subject, is prosaic when it is tame, is low when it is mean’.
I lay my finger on four words in these two sentences of Mr Newman, and I say that the man who could apply those words to Homer can never render Homer truly. The four words are these: quaint, garrulous, prosaic, low. Search the English language for a word which does *not* apply to Homer, and you could not fix on a better than *quaint*, unless perhaps you fixed on one of the other three."
Now I wish I had the money to get the book. Thanks, Adam. When I grow up and get a job I will get all of the books. Meanwhile, I recommend to my library. Carry on with the lunacy!
This made me think of Thomas M Disch's The Dreams Our Stuff Is Made Of, which I read twice when I was young but now seems pretty much just a list of things that annoy Thomas M Disch. It's a good read though if you accept that you're going to disagree with some of it
Thanks for the judicious review; I'm much more likely to look into the book now. But I notice that Kincaid's description of Frank McConnell's critical work has something in common with his description of yours. I wonder if he noticed it too.
At any rate, I'm glad you resist the pressure to po-face. Critics inevitably pratfall, either immediately or in hindsight, and my discursive-prose heroes all acknowledged and exploited that built-in clownishness. Those who insist on their dignity, like Ruskin or Harold Bloom, or Matthew Arnold for that matter, are likely to get the response Hepburn gave Grant in "Bringing Up Baby".
Even outside criticism, legitimate scholarship can benefit from keep-the-classroom-awake sparks. Frederic Spotts's terrific study of Occupation France, "The Shameful Peace", made me laugh out loud yesterday while describing a collabo's post-war memoir: "Fabiani was one of those authors who flirts with facts but never gets a date."
Thanks Ray. I agree with you about the dangers of po-facedness, and the sharpness of criticism that is open to sparks and humour. But I'd challenge your bracketing Arnold among the po-faced. He is often very witty, sometimes laugh aloud funny. "Southey's The Curse of Kehama will be read when Homer and Vergil are forgotten. But ... not until then." Arnold's take-down of Newman's translation of Homer is brilliant criticism, and very funny:
"Mr Newman does not leave us in doubt as to the general effect which Homer makes upon him. As I have told you what is the general effect which Homer makes upon me,—that of a most rapidly moving poet, that of a poet most plain and direct in his style, that of a poet most plain and direct in his ideas, that of a poet eminently noble,—so Mr Newman tells us his general impression of Homer. ‘Homer’s style’, he says, ‘is direct, popular, forcible, quaint, flowing, garrulous’. Again: ‘Homer rises and sinks with his subject, is prosaic when it is tame, is low when it is mean’.
I lay my finger on four words in these two sentences of Mr Newman, and I say that the man who could apply those words to Homer can never render Homer truly. The four words are these: quaint, garrulous, prosaic, low. Search the English language for a word which does *not* apply to Homer, and you could not fix on a better than *quaint*, unless perhaps you fixed on one of the other three."
Thanks, Adam -- you're absolutely right. I was unfairly transferring my dislike for solemn Arnoldians to their supposed begetter.
Now I wish I had the money to get the book. Thanks, Adam. When I grow up and get a job I will get all of the books. Meanwhile, I recommend to my library. Carry on with the lunacy!
This made me think of Thomas M Disch's The Dreams Our Stuff Is Made Of, which I read twice when I was young but now seems pretty much just a list of things that annoy Thomas M Disch. It's a good read though if you accept that you're going to disagree with some of it
The list of things that annoyed Tom Disch is very lengthy indeed.