Commentary on Commentary

“In pre-literate cultures the composition of songs is a process in which discussion and criticism, often passionate, play an important part—and inevitably so, because aesthetic reaction implies preference and preference implies criticism.” –Kenneth Dover

Since the beginning (of the history we are able to trace), criticism has played an important role in shaping the thoughts, actions, and mores of society. The role of the critic, therefore, is a concept that is engrained in our collective societal mind. The idea of criticism is oddly blacklisted in a world which accepts, even celebrates, the opinions of others. So many people talk about how things aren’t politically correct. Everyone knows the saying that goes, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” You probably grew up hearing that over and over.

But seriously, imagine a world where people only said nice things. No one said anything controversial or expressed opinions contrary to popular belief. It would be like The Giver, sterile and colorless and unimaginative. What if someone literally was filled with all controversial, against the grain things to say and God made it impossible for him to say anything “nice” and so he just stopped talking for the rest of his life because his mom told him not to say anything at all? What if this guy had the key to solving some really big problem that no one else could solve because everyone was too busy agreeing with the next guy to formulate an opinion of his own?

So clearly, this is taking it an extra step too far because maybe our moms didn’t mean not to speculate but simply just not to call Jenny fat because she ate the last entire row of your Caramel Delights. Nonetheless, the cliché serves us a purpose because if everyone fell into the habit of not saying something because they think it would offend someone, the world would be stagnant and boring. We’d all just be sheep, baa-lieving one truth when in reality there are so many truths. Your mom probably also told you that “if you don’t stand for something, you will fall for anything.”

A critic is allowed to state his/her opinion. It’s acceptable because it’s the norm. The notion that anyone can really assume the role of the critic is rocking the boat. Movie, music, and literature critiques in newspapers from professional critics are dwindling away in favor of bloggers, op-ed writers, and everyday people. What’s unchanging is the purpose the critic serves in our greater society: whoever the person behind the critique is, he/she is generating thought.

Opinions spark imagination, creativity, reactions, learning. So many people have so many good ideas that are unheard because they were taught that to be “down to earth” you have to “always go with the flow.” Sometimes the better option is to swim against the current. If someone hadn’t spoken up against denying women rights given to men, where would we be? As a woman, I wouldn’t even be publicly writing this. If no voice was heard in the name of the Super Bowl Half-Time performance by Beyoncé, where would we be? We might still be blissfully unaware that she is black. If no one had told us that Chick-Fil-A was better than McDonald’s, where would we be? Probably still in the McDonald’s drive-thru! Culture is shifting and ever-changing; it’s a flux which cannot be denied the voice of the people. So the role of critics is simple.

They make us think.

The Success of Nonfiction

Nonfiction pieces are successful I think when they read like fiction, which is clearly not possible in all cases of nonfiction (like in the case of this blog post) so maybe I will amend: generally, nonfiction pieces, especially in the case of personal nonfiction, are successful when they read like fiction. It is the responsibility of, and an opportunity to, the writer to make the piece that he or she is writing enjoyable. This is a never ending circle that will always wheel around trying to find the correct answer and never fully find it. No one piece will be enjoyable to all, that’s impossible. However, there are some key factors that play into (generally) successful nonfiction writing.

Key factor number one: Build images in linear fashion. Employ digression to explain.

A writer could use the numbers and letters tactic wherein at the top of each section there is either a number or letter or both which moves the linearity right along, placing the reader in a position to understand that some sections are commentary on the subject and that others are digressions or examples or follow-ups, whatever you’d like to call them, for explaining the commentary. It’s like Q&A, but more interesting.

There is also linearity which comes from chronology or illusion of chronology. For example, a writer may include sections that flow steadily throughout the piece but that jump back and forth between childhood experience and adulthood reflection. This piece of nonfiction may not be numbered or bulleted, but the reader can follow the story easily by understanding that the childhood sections provide the commentary, while the adulthood sections provide the digression. The differentiation will be minute and less distinct than the number and letters tactic, but it is there nonetheless.

Key factor number two: Employ the elements of the novel (i.e. scene, setting, characters, dialogue, drama). In other words, the author of a nonfictional piece needs conflict and vivid imagery to mold the scenes of the story into faux fictional magic.

Successful writers do this by placing the reader (or jolting the reader, rather) from scene to scene, much like we discussed in key factor number one. He has a conflict—say the writer has strong, loathsome feelings regarding laugh tracks—and he uses vivid imagery—describes real scenes in his life which have led him to hate fake laughter.

It would be understood based on the publication and sometimes subtle elements in the story itself, that this is a piece of nonfiction. We would have a good feeling that this is the writer talking about his actual feelings and that it is not a made-up character. But if we set this piece, say, in a Hemingway novel and called the character by a different name and deemed him a cynical, opinionated journalist for the New Yorker and dubbed this a scene in which he passionately expresses his disdain for laugh tracks, the story, in all its nonfictional glory, would be transformed into fiction and no one would ever know the difference. That, my friends, is nonfictional success.