I consume a fair amount of media criticism, both contemporary and historical. I read about writing, about what’s written, and about writers. As a function of this, I have to give a lot of thought to how different critics critique. Today I’m going to be putting my thoughts into a coherent form in order to communicate them, as writers are wont to do, and explaining, in addition, precisely why we must be conscious about these elements of critique, both in receiving and giving.

An N-Dimensional Space

The way I describe critique is as an ‘n-dimensional space.’ Of course, for many of you that’s not a particularly lucid term. Let’s break it down. First, ‘space’ is simple. Think of a graph; that’s a two dimensional space. In the simplest terms, each particular instance is simplified to a point on the graph with two attributes, X and Y. Another example is a dial, like a volume knob, the heat dial on an analog stovetop, or the like. That’s a one-dimensional space, with each point being described by one attribute- how far along on the line (curled around the knob or straightened out) it is.

Second, we have ‘dimensions.’ In the basic sense, we have roughly four dimensions to deal with, height, width, breadth, and time. A ‘dimension’ however, is really just a measurable, (ideally) relevant axis- so we could speak of ‘color’ as one of a house’s dimensions, or weight, or maximum occupancy, or likelihood to explode. Third, ‘N’ simply means that I’m not setting a strict limit or minimum to the number of dimensions. I’ll be defining six dimensional areas, but I am far from saying that more can’t exist. Certainly others will likely break down critique in different ways; probably others will find worthwhile dimensions I have missed. All I assert is that these are useful and basic.

#1 Sentencing the Author

The first dimension at hand is exactly how much of the author’s input we consider. As discussed in this series, Death of the Author is an interpretive framework which entirely ignores the author’s intent, and it is far from the only possible position. We can consider the author’s intent as manifested in the work, for instance, his ‘meta-intent’; we can also look at what he says elsewhere. What’s more, we can decide which elements of his work and his external statements matter.

In the case of J.R.R. Tolkien, for instance, we could decide that The Lord of the Rings is canon for the purposes of our critique, that his letters are authoritative, and that the rest of his notes, which interesting, are irrelevant. We could also decide that those other elements are authoritative, like the letters, if not fully canon, not capable of modifying The Lord of the Rings. We could even differentiate between The Silmarillion and the narratives Christopher Tolkien assembled into The Silmarillion. On the other hand, we could take only what is said in The Lord of the Rings itself as canon, eschewing even The Hobbit, perhaps even going so far as to ignore the meta-intent, what the book conveys of Tolkien’s intent, in favor of full Death of the Author. All of these are valid, so long as they are consciously adopted and clearly communicated.

What’s particularly important here is not only what we critique but the standard we hold it to, as both matter on this dimension. As they’re part of another dimension too, though, I’ll let in-depth consideration wait.

#2 Levels of Priority

When we consider authorial intent, we must remember that author’s aren’t monoliths, and generally their intent has multiple layers, levels, and interactions. I may intend to write a detective story, but I also intend to portray a certain scene one way, to write the main character into a particular role, to convey a certain moral. In some cases, these different intents may be in conflict with each other. Thus, we as writers, as readers, as receivers of critique, must be conscious of the multiplicity of intent, the interplay between these various levels.

This differentiation of priority also matters in other fields. A scene can be both excellently written and entirely out of place. To illustrate the point, transpose the scene wherein the hobbits sing travel songs in the Shire in The Fellowship of the Ring to Sam and Frodo’s trek across Mordor in The Return of the King. It really, really, really doesn’t work. Similarly, a scene can be elevated by its surroundings- scenes which reveal a secret or release tension in some way are particularly affected by this. Sometimes something which would improve the scene by itself would diminish the story as a whole, possibly by revealing something too soon or setting the wrong tone or even working with another element later revealed to give an unwanted impression. In writing and in critiquing we must be conscious of the priority of each element.

Note too that ‘priority’ can be granted as well as discovered. If my purpose is to critique detective stories, I may prioritize the detective elements of a story, leaving aside the romance except as it plays into the detective role. In such an analysis, I have given certain elements priority over others. Caution is due here, of course, to avoid giving a false impression. If I critique The Flying Inn as a thriller, I must give due consideration to the book’s philosophical, comical, and romantic elements (among others), in order to be sure I get my central analysis right, in order to avoid getting a false understanding to my own writing’s harm, in order to communicate the real truth to my audience (if I have one), and in order, honestly, to get the most possible out of the work, aesthetically, morally, intellectually, and experientially (not to mention the fun of it).

#3 Holistic or Particular?

In critiquing a story, we have two broad approaches we can take to this dimension. First, we can choose to consider it as a whole. Second, we can critique sub-components, the nuts and bolts. Of course, these aren’t mutually exclusive, so long as they are done in tandem rather than simultaneously. Indeed, the second is necessary to the first. But once again (and in a bit of crossover with the above, because these are pragmatic, not scientific, distinctions), which parts of the story we’re interested in and paying attention to will vary.

Some critics, too, are emphatically more interested in certain elements than others, to the point of basing their critique of the whole on those parts. I say some, but to an extent all of us are this way. Certainly all of us have this bias when we do not intentionally excise its effects, and the simple fact that we will be equipped to notice some things (and equipped, by experience and circumstance, not to notice others) always introduces some bias.

For Now….

For several reasons, including how much time it takes to write these, there’ll be a second part of this article next week. There I’ll go into the other three dimensions, as well as a summation of why I’m emphasizing clarity so much.

God bless.