Bad Reviews

One of the things I admire about these creative johnnies is their readiness to put themselves in the firing line as far as reviews are concerned. It’s one thing to have a feeling that perhaps the show wasn't quite as good as it might have been; it's quite to another to have an anonymous critic telling you that, and worse, in cold hard print. And you having to get back up on that unforgiving stage the next night.

One of the things that puzzles me about these reviewer types is why they bother to stick the knife in as deeply as they do, regardless of whether it's deserved. Well, that's not quite true. I know why they do it: they enjoy it. There are few activities that can be legally carried out on a typewriter, nowadays a word processor, quite as deeply satisfying as showing your superiority to those arrogant souls who think they have a right to get their stuff on/in stage/film/CD/print/canvas. And the more deeply inadequate you are, the greater the pleasure that comes from slagging somebody off. (I'm guessing a bit there, but I don't think I'm too wide of the mark.)

I was reminded of this yesterday when incorporating a chunk of an article on Alain de Botton into a segment of a workbook we'll be giving our students. I enjoy his work generally and particularly liked The Art of Travel which we'll be using as a Part 4 text for English A1. Mr Charlie Brooker (whoever he is) does not share these sentiments as he makes abundantly clear in a piece subtly entitled The Art of Drivel.

Now if you've bothered to pursue the link above what exactly do you think has motivated Mr Brooker? 1) A love of literature such that he wishes to uphold the highest standards possible against the rising tide of barbarism? 2) A debilitating sense of envy towards someone who's been very successful doing roughly the same thing (writing) as he does but doing it a lot better? I know what my answer is, and it's not number 1.