An essay on criticism

This is an illuminating and humorous poetic guide on how one should go about critiquing and reflecting on their own writing. I often found myself grinning while reading this due to how Pope--with his polished heroic couplets--deftly spears the heart of many issues that plague all manner of writers; the brevity and quick wit of which is stunningly apt and makes for a good laugh.

Pope here is mainly concerned with caution and moderation; don't be too lenient, but don't be too harsh. He lambasts critics that focus too much on one aspect of a work and tear it down while neglecting the sum of its parts, or critics that overly praise a work on account of an author's established reputation. Pope also points out that when you write, make sure show more there is substance to what you're saying, and be wary of your creative boundaries, as this stanza highlights:

"But you who seek to give and merit fame,
And justly bear a critic's noble name,
Be sure yourself and your own reach to know
How far your genius taste and learning go.
Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet
And mark that point where sense and dullness meet."

I've certainly been guilty of trying to write beyond my limits, and also of judging certain works too harshly based on one part of the whole thing. Though it can be painful to acknowledge mistakes, Pope encourages us with the famous line, "To err is human; to forgive, divine", and implores people to, "...with pleasure, own your errors past,/ And make each day a critique on the last."

Although it's a struggle to critique your own actions each day, the general principles and timelessness of these lines ring true. It's a refreshing read, especially nowadays. There is also a good deal of criticism on contrarianism and hypocrisy, which part of this stanza in Part II shows:

"The vulgar thus through imitation err;
As oft the learned by being singular.
So much they scorn the crowd that if the throng
By chance go right they purposely go wrong:
So schismatics the plain believers quit,
And are but damned for having too much wit.
Some praise at morning what they blame at night,
But always think the last opinion right.
A muse by these is like a mistress used,
This hour she's idolized, the next abused;
While their weak heads, like towns unfortified,
'Twixt sense and nonsense daily change their side.
Ask them the cause, they're wiser still they say;
And still to-morrow's wiser than to-day.
We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow;
Our wiser sons, no doubt, will think us so."

But my favorite few lines are these in which Pope eloquently explains "true expression":

"But true expression, like the unchanging sun,
Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon;
It gilds all objects, but it alters none."

Pope never lets his lines go on for too long; he says precisely what he means to say, and in short fashion. The language flows and often contains powerful imagery, doubling in effect. Another similarly impactful part is when Pope talks about how there is always something new to conquer; always something grander just beyond the horizon. It's funny to think how even though Pope's work sits at such a creative height, Pope himself thought the same of great writers that had written prior to his own time.

On many levels, this work is a masterful example of poetry, 18th century writing and criticism. From the cadence to the robust creative expression, Pope so effortlessly writes about serious topics and yet still finds time to crack some jokes along the way. It's just too damn good.

"The learn'd reflect on what before they knew:
Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame,
Still pleas'd to praise, yet not afraid to blame,
Averse alike to flatter, or offend,
Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend." show less

There are a number of famous phrases in this essay:

To err is human; to forgive, divine.

A little learning is a dang'rous thing.

For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

And I learnt a new word: "coxcomb" - an archaic term for a dandy. Pope draws on numerous place names as synonyms for The Ancients, so Aristotle is "the Stagirite"; Virgil is "the Mantuan Muse"; and,

To copy nature is to copy them.

After reading a few articles by and about Harold Bloom, having almost finished John Ruskin's On Art and Life, and having made a start on Oscar Wilde's The Critic as Artist, I have gained an appreciation for the work of the critic. Pope points out that Aristotle was a critic of Homer, and Maevius, known for his criticism of better writers (and show more of Augustus Caesar's vintage), was well-critiqued by both Virgil and Horace. Pope provides advice for the genius, too:

Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet, And mark that point where sense and dulness meet.

and

One science only will one genius fit; So vast is art, so narrow human wit.

Our talent requires constant effort, and spreading ourselves too thin means:

Like kings we lose the conquests gain'd before.

Reading is important (especially to "know well" the Ancients), and we should:

Read them by day, and meditate by night.

I could feel Mortimer Adler lurking in the background, and a return to How to Read a Book revealed Pope's sentiments (p. 11):

There have always been literate ignoramuses who have read too widely and not well.

As Pope said:

The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read, With loads of learned lumber in his head.

But Pope also touches on the problem for converting sound reading into writing (which is increasingly my problem):

That on weak wings, from far, pursues your flights; Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes.

Adler spoke of "coming to terms with the author", and Pope seems to be Adler's inspiration:

A perfect judge will read each work of wit With the same spirit that its author writ

Yet Pope draws on the folk tradition, too, especially in relation to the "father" of all sins, pride, "the never-failing vice of fools"; and Socrates' notion of the more we know, the more we know we don't know much ("New, distant scenes of endless science rise!"). In effect, Pope argues that pride prevents reason. If pride can be driven away, then we can use feedback from friend and foe alike to correct our faults. The Stoics, too, can be seen in the background, with echoes of Epictetus' (Discourses 3.24.17) warning that happiness and yearning for something one doesn't have are incompatible, in effect, perfectionism is desiring the impossible, reflected in:

Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.

Nietzsche gets a guernsey, too, or, should I say that Nietzsche draws on Pope's Dionysian-ness ("Dennis of the Grecian stage"). There is so much in this essay that a second and third reading will be rewarding. And not just for lessons in literature and history - geography, too. As it turns out, London's Duck Lane (not the current Duck Lane, which Google Maps shows is an alley), now known as "Little Britain", was in Pope's time an area for second-hand booksellers, and before that an area for publishers, too. There is so much in Pope that is familiar, much like John Stuart Mill's On Liberty (which is like reading my own mind, the content is basically the liberal arts curriculum of a modern education). But the difference is that Pope's work requires a more thorough reading of the Great Books. While I have much more to learn about the classics, it is clear that the more familiar one is with them, then the more rewarding a reading of Pope will be. show less

Amusing, quotable, and quite brilliant

Pretty funny, written in verse, but wholly meaningless.

How to avoid Writers errors Poem style, a good device and I must listen again and then again.