Contrary to what we see on the internet every day, "This sucks" and "so-and-so is an idiot" and "epic fail" do not suffice for analysis and criticism when it comes to books. (It shouldn’t suffice on the internet either, but that’s another rant for another day.)
Today, we'll take a look at some of the characteristics of good analysis and criticism and ways to separate yourself from the hacks.
To Tell the Truth is an 18-week mini-series exploring the practical side of non-fiction writing and publishing. The series outline is located here, and previous episodes may be found here. To Tell the Truth is published Monday evenings and is crossed posted at MélangePress.
For more writing and book diaries, visit Write On!, Bookflurries, Books by Kossacks, and What Are You Reading.
When I talk of analytical or critical books, I am talking mainly about books that take something or someone to task. These books look at an event, an idea, or an entity (Enron, intelligent design, Fox News) and dissect it (The Smartest Guys in the Room, The Greatest Show on Earth, Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them). Criticism (the shorthand I will use for this entire category) calls attention to a problem, identifies and analyzes a problem, investigates, defends, attacks, or argues for reform.
In my opinion (wherein I become a bit critical), criticism is easy to write but hard to do well. In my experience, I have seen the worst, and the best, and the best of criticism and analysis have the following characteristics:
They are thorough – or explicitly focused.
If you are going to take on the entire health care system, for God’s sake, take on the ENTIRE health care system, or the first thing your reader is going to do is say "yeah, but he didn’t talk at all about chiropractic" and dismiss you. Most subjects are too large to take on completely (World War II, theater, Congress) so pick the one point you want to dig into (naval battles in the South Pacific theatre, 21st century musicals, Senate rules) and dig in.
They are well researched.
I wish this didn’t need to be said, but alas, we have all seen too many half-supported arguments to leave this one aside. So when you’re writing criticism, make sure you have done your homework. Have solid (and trustworthy) sources to support your point and solid references to the opposing side. Go for primary sources as much as possible – don’t make the mistake of quoting someone else’s misquote, or your argument will be dismissed on its face. And, as I pointed out in an earlier diary, don’t cherry pick.
A great example of the well-researched criticism is the aforementioned Lies and the Lying Liars who Tell Them. Now Senator (yay!) Al Franken actually assembled a team of researchers from Harvard (Team Franken) to dissect every claim, prove every point, provide unimpeachable support. We should all be so lucky to have a team like this to help us!
They are calm.
This what our high school English teachers were trying to instill in us when they had us write those endless essays about literature. Their point was to make sure you are looking INTO the work, not just at your gut reaction. You may have hated "The Loneliness of a Long Distance Runner" (and really, who didn't?) but you can separate your reaction from the criticism of the piece.
They also don’t default to ad hominem attacks. Attack the idea, not the person. (For more on this point, please see Cassiodorus’s great diary On the Ad Hominem Argument.)
The best remedy is to be methodical. Analyze the points methodically and dispassionately. Don’t get me wrong: your passion will still seep in, but it won’t be the reason your critics dismiss you.
They give credit where credit is due.
The things you are analyzing or criticizing may not be completely wrong, so please do not throw out the baby with the bathwater. As an illustration, I offer one of my favorite stories from my time as a theatre critic:
I wrote for the now-defunct Spectator Magazine in Raleigh, NC, and my beat covered college, community, and professional theatre – including Playmakers Repertory Company at UNC-Chapel Hill. They mounted a production of Nicholas Wright’s Mrs. Klein, about the mother of child psychology, Melanie Klein, and her own precarious relationship to her children.
The set at Playmakers was stunning – beautiful parquet floors, richly appointed furnishings that were beautifully lit. The costumes were spot-on for 1934 London. And as the play went on, I was impressed with the care and commitment of the actors.
However, the play itself is torture.
Now I went to see this on opening night, and sitting right behind me and my date was my editor and his date. At intermission, I whispered to my date, "if Philip wasn’t sitting right behind me, we’d leave now and I’d fake the rest of it." It was that agonizing.
Two days later, I turned in my review – praising the art direction, actors, and even the director – credit where credit was due. When the review was published, I noticed Philip’s own (incredibly rare) editorial comment, in the headline: Shut Up, Mother! Mrs. Klein at Playmakers (page 3 of the linked document). I called Philip to comment on his headline, and he made a confession: "If you hadn’t been sitting right in front of us, we’d have left at intermission and faked having seen it all."
The point is, there can be a lot of valid points in someone else’s point of view – give them credit. And then show where they went wrong.
They are not just preaching to the choir.
Why are you writing this piece? To get backslaps and cheers from your friends? Or to change a few minds?
Now it’s true that you have to preach to the choir to get them to sing – and it may be that your point is exactly that: to provide solid analysis so that they are armed for battle. But along the way, it helps if you can convert a few more singers – and the only way you do that is to provide a roadmap for bringing them along. Provide places of agreement with your opposition – "now we can all agree that x" – and then suggest an alternative (and the more strongly it is supported both logically and with your research, the better).
One final thought, from scientist Neils Bohrs:
"The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement. But the opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth."
Go forth and write your profound truth.
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And now, a word from our sponsors...
I promised that this series would not be about grammar, but I have to break my rule for just a moment, because as a card-carrying member of the Grammar Police, I cannot stay silent any longer.
ITS and IT'S are NOT interchangeable.
I wouldn't make such a fuss, except I'm seeing it with alarming frequency all over the internet, including this site, and it's an egregious - and easily fixed - error.
Here's the nut of it:
ITS = the possessive of IT. Example: I like this orange; its flavor is like a party in my mouth.
IT'S = the contraction of IT IS. Example: I like this orange; it's bursting with flavor.
If you can correctly say "it is" where you have those three letters, then add the apostrophe. If you can't,get it out of there. Please, please, please, by all that you hold holy, PLEASE pay attention when typing these three letters, and use the apostrophe correctly!
Thank you. This message brought to you by the Grammar Police: Saving the World One Comma at a Time.
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Next week, we look at a new genre: Blog to Book – and we will be joined by WineRev in the comments, to talk about his blog-to-book, Recounting Minnesota.
Cheers!