A DEADLY WEAPON

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22504, 22 August 1936, Page 6 (Supplement)

A DEADLY WEAPON

CRITICISM THAT KILLS FAITH THE MISTAKES OF THE PAST BY CUIUSTINK COMUKII "Criticism," wrote Tchehov, the famous Russian story-writer and playwright, "is an empty barrel one cannot help hearing." As a generalisation this statement is doubtless rather sweeping. But criticism is a deadly weapon in the hands of the callous, the unscrupulous, or the incompetent. \\ itli one blow it. can destroy the work and hope of years; and history is not lacking in proof that the critics' views and those of posterity do not always coincide. Some time ago in Australia the coveted Archibald prize for a portrait in oils was won by an almost unknown artist, who had been employed on relief work concreting roads. In an interview his wife said: "On countless occasions my husband was told that he was wasting his time painting, and was advised to try some other activity for which he was better qualified, but he was never downhearted. Several times J was present when such an adverse criticism was made, and 1 gave the critic a criticism of his criticism which I'm sure lie remembered." Well, faith has been rewarded and another item recorded iri the book of critics mistakes. The other day 1 read how n now famous American cartoonist was "fired" by the paper bo was on. Shortly afterwards he won a much sought-after prize and was offered his old job back, but lie refused and went over to a rival office.

! " What helped you over the great : j obstacles of life?" Was asked a sue- j j ccssful woman. j i "The other obstacles," she replied. :

The past was riot a whit better. Wordsworth's intolerant treatment of Shelly; Keat's suffering at the hands of the "Quarterly Iteview"; the almost unanimous condemnation of the "Lyrical Ballads." the joint work of Coleridge and Wordsworth, containing the "Ancient Mariner"; Carlyle's attack on Lamb, and Lamb's refusal to praise Hazlitt in his writings—all these leave one feeling that if such eminent critics made mistakes, what worse mistakes must not less gifted and more dogmatic mortals make? I know of one editor who takes home a large proportion of the articles and verse that are submitted to him, and judges them after dinner, when there is no danger of an exasperating caller or a rush of work warping his judgment. This knowledge would always make me respect that editor's fairness and sincerity, even if I had cause to disagree with his judgmnet.

In "First Night," the authoress tells the story of the first presentation of a play. One dramatic critic is furious because he thinks that the critic from another paper has been given a better seat; another is in a hurry to get awav; a third has a new theory he wants to air and is relying on that particular play for the opportunity. The play, which fortunately was not a good one, would in any case have been as dead as the dodo after their on- j slaught. An acquaintance of mine argues that ! criticism always goes down before sheer | genius. It does not. Listen to this, from j an old 1814 English magazine. The ! critic is reviewing "Six Country Dances ! and Thirteen Waltzes." composed by Beethoven. Here are some extracts: ! "The most wretchedly monotonous | (work} as ever characterised the j scribble of a musical amateur . . . not ! worth criticism . . . most thoroughly i hackneyed ... no masterly trait what- ! soever."

Criticism is more often than not, largely an expression of the critic's personal taste. The best critics know this and are not over-hastv with their condemnation, the worst feel that if they do not find fault heartily thev are not critics at all. Tf every artist refused to let himself become discouraged. fhen adverse criticism might only act as a spur, urging him on to greater efforts, but the trouble is they are not all like that.