From a 2008 New York Times Book Review piece:
“I don’t review books very often,” [Richard Russo] said in an e-mail message, “which is odd because I love to talk about them. The problem is that I don’t have much interest in discussing books I don’t like. It takes me four or five years to write a novel, and no matter how much I may hate a book, I can’t get out of my head the fact that some poor schlemiel worked lovingly on it for a very long time. A movie producer friend of mine once remarked that most people have no idea how hard it is to make even a bad movie, and I feel the same way about novels. I don’t dispute that it’s somebody’s job to blow the whistle on bad books, bad movies, bad art. It’s just not mine if I can help it.”
Though clearly I rake muck here regularly as a commenter whose political orientation comes out somewhere between liberal and civil libertarian (or so says one of those cool online tests), I am also the Advocate's arts editor. And, despite some recent commentary weirdly suggesting otherwise, I am also a participant in the arts–I've played in all sorts of bands for a couple of decades; I've got poems out there somewhere; I'm currently trying to orchestrate several hundred pages of prose into a viable novel.
Which is not to toot my own horn (all of the above might be terrible for all anyone knows), but to say that the above Russo quote is the subject of some major cogitating on my part about what it means to critique artistic efforts when you know just how monumental a task it is to craft even a bad effort and sail it out into the ocean of criticism.
How do you not pull punches but remain aware of someone's effort? Does effort matter, since they've chosen to launch the thing for critique? And wouldn't someone rather have a fellow musician, writer, actor or whatever provide critique, since in practice that means a more thorough and informed look than non-artists can provide?
All interesting food for thought, and the probable subject of an upcoming arts column.
And… since this is a "liberal" blog and what have you–be sure to check out Glenn Greenwald's extraordinary recent posting regarding the role of being a "warrior" and its importance to would-be terrorists.
He explores both the incredibly measured takedown of Richard Reid's claims in that department offered by the judge in his case, and contrasts it to the full validation of that position often and currently offered in the Right's beating of the war drum whenever these clowns show up to try to blow something up. (Just see the recent inanity offered by Dick Cheney.)
This, for my money, is precisely the right approach, as taken from the transcript of Reid's trial. More of this, instead of turning hysterical and begging for the stripping of civil rights, would certainly help us deal with the problem of terrorism. Just check out the devastating nature of that last line, and compare it to the usual reward we offer of a full-on media circus and calls for colonoscopies for every traveller (not, mind, that I'm opposed to security measures, just to public hyperventilating about them):
You are not an enemy combatant. You are a terrorist. You are not a soldier in any war. You are a terrorist. To give you that reference, to call you a soldier gives you far too much stature. Whether it is the officers of government who do it or your attorney who does it, or that happens to be your view, you are a terrorist.
And we do not negotiate with terrorists. We do not treat with terrorists. We do not sign documents with terrorists. We hunt them down one by one and bring them to justice. So war talk is way out of line in this court.
You're a big fellow. But you're not that big. You're no warrior. I know warriors. You are a terrorist. A species of criminal guilty of multiple attempted murders. In a very real sense Trooper Santiago had it right when first you were taken off that plane and into custody and you wondered where the press and where the TV crews were and you said you're no big deal. You're no big deal.
ADDITIONAL:
David "Blinky" Brooks often drives me crazy, with his weird, smiley delivery of conservative wisdom. But I have to admit–this Brooks column is incredibly spot-on, and is a pleasant reminder that old-school conservatism is very different from the current sorry excuse that goes by the same name.
