"On Criticism.
The critic exists to hound the doer.
With these words let me assure you my dear reader (that's you, sensei), that I have nothing at all against the critic who exists to make my life better. The critic who criticizes me for my real faults is the one who deserves my attention.
Unfortunately, in this world, few people of such stature exist.
The Greeks used to define criticism as a discourse or dialog that bought out the finer points of a certain argument.
Now, it goes against my nature to criticize Plato or Socrates for their world views. They faced death by poisoning, and I face death by being ignored. Not quite the same degree of danger to one's health, but I certainly hope you understand. If not, I face death by re-writing this essay or death by a super-fast hand curled into a weapon. Either way, I digress. The point I am trying to make is this: we the modern generation, have lost all sense of what criticism must be.
These days, we have internet, and we have anonymity. And with people abusing the right to freedom of expression, we have idiots whose opinion must not be worth its weight in dust, but is unfortunately taken seriously by artists. This causes artists to devalue their own worth, and ultimately commit suicide, not bodily, but artistically.
Which brings me to my other point. Did you know there exists a Pulitzer award for criticism? How does one judge the worth of art? Is not the aim of art to move a person's heart and create feelings, whether it be of despair or love or whatever it is that people might feel?
How does one judge the worth of such a thing? How can one look at Picasso's works and call it trash, while he sees Claude Monet's work and call it beautiful?
The answer, my dear reader, lies in the inherent notion of value.
We assign value to art as we see fit. If a certain art work affects us on a personal level, we call it beautiful, while we turn a blind eye towards another artist's work and call it useless while it may not actually be useless to another person.
And this brings me to the notion of despair within the world of art.
That people should look at what their critics say and give up due to that seems to me a weakness on the part of the artist, nay a failing in self-confidence, or perhaps a lack of faith in his/her own work
However, let me now turn my eye towards these vultures that pervade our cultures and societies.
Here, I feel it incumbent upon myself to quote the French food critic from the admittedly fictional movie, Ratatouille. The message, however, is anything but fictional. Here it is.
"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and selves to our judgement. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the *new*."
And so, allow me to quote the English poet, Robert Frost, who has written the beautiful poem 'The road not taken'. The lessons I would like to highlight from this art are in direct relation to what was said by the Monseigneur Anton Ego, the person I have quoted above. And that being, humans are always afraid of the new. We take roads that are well traveled just because they have been well traveled. But the first person to think otherwise is always called a fool.
To further exacerbate this point, allow me to bring another piece of Japanese wisdom to you via the indomitable Yuuko Ichihara (Sensei, you must understand where this one is coming from, given your knowledge of Manga): "Normal? What is normal? To only do what the masses do? And what Is the benefit of that? Where is the problem in adopting custom that is abnormal, if it has no negative effect on the world at large?"
Which brings us to a full circle regarding Greeks and critics. We find ourselves further and further away from the notion that 'critiques' must not necessarily be taken to mean negative criticisms of an artist's work, but a technical analysis of why it is in someone's eyes, not quite up to standards or expectations of that person alone.
Critics must, in other words avoid putting the weight of society behind their judgements, and be professional in their discussion of why a piece of art is or isn't good enough.
Finally, a word to the artist himself/herself. I find another Japanese saying that goes so: "If you lie down in the middle of the road, people will sit on you."
I have found humility to be a thing worthy of anathema among the artists I have read about. People love to go to extremes. Some have such a lot of humility that they would belittle their work. The mindless critic seizes this opportunity and berates the artist for being bad at his work, while the critic him/herself has absolutely no idea what they are talking about.
In other words, how foolish would you think a person is if he took medical prescriptions from a plumber? That is how ridiculous it is to depend on someone who has no idea about art for his views of art.
The point I make, dear artist, is don't depend on some random internet junkie or normie to tell you how much you suck. You already say that to yourself every day.
Now, since this essay does not follow the dictates of a well-defined essay, I suggest that before you award me a bad grade, you take into account the fact that you cannot judge my essay objectively given the number of times you have asked me to redo assignments, I suggest you stay on the safe side and give me an A."
Hikigaya Hachiman
Hiratsuka Shizuka sighed, one hand on her head, almost face palming herself.
Why must he write such pseudo-philosophy, at this age at that, and make it sound so logical?
And where must she cut points, now that he had taken away her right to 'criticize' his work by deducting points?
Being a Literature teacher, she well understood the notion of wrongly judging people's work. It happened all the time.
A poor writer who spins a most amazing tale is ignored in favor of a writer who has in the past produced some good work, but now produces horrible writing. Thus talent loses in the end afterall.
Ah, she was turning into a cynic herself. Damn that Hikigaya.
With a sigh, she put the paper away into her bag. This would need a second look. She was going to take it with her and read it at home.
.
.
Sitting comfortably on her arm chair, Hiratsuka was disturbed by the doorbell. Getting up, she went to the keyhole, then frowned and opened the door.
"Hyahallo, Shizuka chan." Sang the girl that pranced in without any permission. Then again, that was expected of her.
"Hey, don't just come dancing inside without people's permission." Growled Shizuka.
"Come now," she smirked, "what has gotten into you? Is something bothering you?"
And not for the first time, Haruno had so easily read Shizuka's mood. Sometimes it got to be annoying.
Shizuka sighed, then grabbed the piece of paper that bore the brunt of Hikigaya's cynical musings and handed it to Haruno.
"Here, read it for yourself."
"Hooh," Haruno's eyes lit up, eyeing the name on the paper, and she immediately plopped down on the sofa with a hand under her chin, and started reading it in a wide eyed fashion, as if the words would slip away of they weren't read soon enough.
"By the way, what was the essay about?"
"It was a free for all topic, I gave students the choice to pick a topic regarding literature."
Haruno did not respond, absorbed as she was with the essay. Her smile got bigger and bigger, until she started laughing, and didn't stop for a while. Shizuka found time to light up one of her favorite cigarettes.
"Well, well, well. Now don't tell me you disagree with this." Haruno said, all wide smiles on her face.
Shizuka sighed again. Such a curve ball, this woman. You could never know what she was up to half the time.
"Oh, but wait a minute." Haruno's hands went under her chin, and she once again struck a thinker's pose. "I see how it is for you. You cannot openly condone such cynical musings, how much ever accurate they are because you are supposed to be a 'grown up' and a person who 'has it all figured out'." Haruno reasoned, making quotation signs in the air.
Shizuka thought of giving her a baleful look, then decided against it, they would simply slide off of her like mud on a reptile's scales.
"Who said I was against it in the first place?" Shizuka decided to mess with her head.
"Umm, your grumpy look when I came in? That was a pretty good indicator."
"Maybe I was angry at something else."
"Oh stop the pretentious act, Shizuka chan."
And for the first time, Shizuka smiled. "Says you? Master of pretentiousness?"
She pouted at that. "That was uncalled for."
So it was, and she'd better leave it at that. Right now, Haruno trusted her enough to come to her and socialize with her, even for a little time. If she kept harassing her with, that would stop pretty soon.
"Sorry, that was uncalled for, you're right."
"So, tell me what was wrong with that essay?" She asked, a devilish smile on her face.
"Haah, where do I even start? Let's see…first of all, to call all art worthy just by saying you cannot judge it is like a person who has just failed an exam telling himself the exam was rigged and that the education system cannot fathom his mind. It's just escaping from reality…"
"What if he really is worth something though? But his grades in other subjects pull him down and keep him out of our higher education system? Like a natural born mathematician who is forced to take humanities, and fails his grade because of it?
Or how about Einstein when he was told he was nothing but a below average student who would never be good in academics, let alone sciences?"
"I never said our education system is perfect." Shizuka said in a deflated voice.
"Ah, I know. Can I take a picture of this?"
"What are you planning to do with it?" Shizuka asked her suspiciously, as Haruno took out her really fancy looking phone and snapped a few pictures.
"Oh nothing much. Just want to keep a record of how that cynic thinks." Haruno said with an innocent face.
Shizuka sighed. Such troublesome kids…
.
.
I walked down the hallway, my eyes roving around looking for means of escape.
I was currently trailing a particularly troublesome kouhai of mine. And, wait for it, it was Council work. Or some variation of it.
"Hikki, why are you so behind us? Catch up."
"Oi, I'm carrying a heavy box here." I protested.
"I see, so that's heavy for you? I seem to have carried it just fine. Must be your poor health due to the Hikki-germs. Or perhaps it is the poor stamina that-"
"Speaking of stamina, Yukinoshita…" I shot back.
That was enough to shut her up.
"I will have words with you once we get back to the club room." She said with baleful eyes.
Once we got rid of Isshiki and her pesky council work, and she went on her way to her beloved Football club, beloved for a very specific reason of course, we entered our deliciously warm club room, and Yukinoshita immediately went to preparing tea.
"Hikigaya-kun, it has come to my notice," she began, "that you have once again perpetrated your extremely one sided and simply wrong worldviews on Hiratsuka sensei once again."
I blinked in surprise. "How-What do you mean?"
She raised her phone, showing me a photograph of my recent essay that I had submitted to sensei.
"My, my, Yukinoshita san, I know you are quite the stalker, but salvaging my essay from the trash and taking a photograph of it to treasure it in your private moments seems a little too extreme to me, don't you think?" I teased her.
And a flustered and slightly pink Yukinoshita answered, "Ridiculous. Downright hypocritical. Might I remind you, Hikigaya kun, that a creature of immense beauty and brilliance needs to pay no attention to garbage and debris like you. I only have this essay of yours because I intend to take you to task for it because I consider it my duty to rid the world of scum and negative minded individuals who poison the society with bacteria such as you." She paused for a breath.
Seriously, this girl has a Noblesse Oblige problem the likes of which haven't been seen since European colonizers in the Americas.
"So, what is it that you find offending, Ms. High-Specs-but-can't-make-friends Yukinoshita san?"
"That you should sully art forms to mere objects of value."
"And where have I done that?"
"You have oh-so-conveniently quoted animation cartoons and anime characters without shame or sense of responsibility."
"Hey." I felt myself getting passionate about this. "Anime can provide just as much to think about and just as much philosophy as books. Let me re-phrase that." I said after thinking a bit. "There is no reason to belittle ethics we receive from anime just because they are anime.
By the way, don't you think a person who watches Pan-san and cat videos should really not be commenting on this?"
"I comment on this issue, Hikigaya kun, because I have read various philosophical books."
"So tell me, does any of what I wrote come into conflict with what you have read on the themes of value that is given to art? Do you doubt that there are people who are as yet undiscovered, but are artists of far higher caliber than what we see in front of us?"
"My issue, Hikigaya kun, is related to criticism. You have posited in your essay that people should not listen to criticism. But it occurs to me that that is hypocritical. Without criticism, a person can never hope to discover her faults and improve."
"Fine. Let me give you an example. What about the time I received criticism because I was rude to Sagami at the cultural festival? Was that warranted? Did I not save the situation from disaster?
How about the time we confronted the Tama-whatever dude? Was it not necessary to put the event on track by such admittedly warranted criticism. Oh wait, that was your point…"
After that slip up, I started thinking furiously, to the giggles of Yukinoshita because I had just slipped up in my own arguments.
"We are talking about art and literature here, Hikigaya kun. Not people and events."
"Whatever the case, I refer to critics and their stupid criticisms. I do not talk about literature or art exclusively." I dismissed her.
"Very good, both of you." A new voice rang out.
I turned my head in surprise to see Hiratsuka sensei leaning against the far wall.
"Sensei, knock." Yukinoshita said irritated. Some things don't change, huh.
"When did you come in."
"You two were so busy arguing, you didn't even notice her." Yuigahama said from the side.
"Oh."
"Hikigaya, I needed to talk to you."
"Yuigahama, let Komachi know I bequeath all my belongings and my beloved bed and my beloved Vita to her. And tell my mother I love-"
"Hikigaya." Sensei's voice rang out. "I'm not executing you, though sometimes I wish I could…"
"All right," I said with a fake sigh of relief. "Then cancel that message, Yuigahama." She just giggled at that.
"Let's walk." She said, and led me towards the playground.
We walked in silence all the way until we reached the playground. A cold wind was blowing across and we could hear the faint shouts and challenges that rang out of the football field.
"Hikigaya," Hiratsuka started. " Give the cynicisms a break will you? They are seriously becoming clichéd."
"Was anything you found in the essay wrong?" I decided to be a bit bold in defending myself.
"No, not as such." Her answer definitely surprised me.
"Say, Hikigaya," she said, a little while later. "You've been criticized a lot for a lot of things, haven't you?"
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Where are you going with this?"
"Just this, Hikigaya." She said with a faraway look in her eyes.
"Just because life kicked from the top of the stairs once while you were trying to climb down, doesn't mean that's all that life does to you." She fell silent after that, but I couldn't really say anything, so I kept quiet as well.
"What I'm saying is, it's all fine if you look at things from a point of view where you see everything that is wrong with those around you. But know this. If you look at people from the lens of wrong doing, that is if you look at people expecting them to do wrong, you might never be fooled or hurt, that is true. But you will slowly and surely lose your faith in humanity and all the good we can do and we have done.
As for the occasional critic who criticizes you for whatever you do," She turned around towards me with a smile, " Since you quoted so many people in your essay, let me quote one back at you. "The artist doesn't have time to listen to the critics. The ones who want to be writers read the reviews, the ones who want to write don't have the time to read reviews." That's William Faulkner for you."
A/N: This was my ode to the writers who write here and sometimes face incessant criticism from different characters. I understand the positive effects that constructive criticism can have, but those negative and derogatory critics are the ones that usually hurt people. So, in an effort to counter the effects of such negativities we face while writing from those who have frankly probably never written a single piece in their lives, I dedicate this chapter to you through the cynical eyes of Hikigaya Hachiman.
As for those who think it their job to criticize negatively (that's right "Fanfic Critic" and Abulkabul, I'm looking at your ilk), I leave the following for you,
"The pleasure of criticizing takes away from us the pleasure of being moved by some very fine things." Jean de La Bruyère
"Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain and most fools do." Benjamin Franklin
I await your butt hurt comments in the review section. And if I do not receive a response, I will automatically assume you have reformed yourself. (What a sweet world that would be)