Clarifications and Retractions

I think I was too hard on Sedaris'’ new book. I think I was too hard on Leconte'’s new film. I most certainly was not hard enough on Doom III.

I'm not going to completely exonerate Sedaris or his editor, about half a dozen stories should have been culled without mercy. Last night, though, I re-read two stories from Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim and found them roughly a jillion times more entertaining for it. Then I read a review of Intimate Strangers in Time and it glowed. "“That Richard Schickel is on to something,"” I thought. Of course he ignores all the major flaws, but they seemed mitigated in my own mind by his lavish praise anyway. I was also in a much better mood.

This reinforces thoughts I’ve been having lately about the fluidity of opinion. Specifically, the fluidity of my opinion and the curious blindness people have to the fluidity of their own. There is a general assumption, I think, that critics strive for objectivity when passing judgment on things. Certainly, the critics themselves and the structure of reviews in general encourages this feeling.

With the exception of a handful of reviewers on Pitchfork and Roger Ebert’'s occasional rheumy strolls down Nostalgia Street, Memoryton, Longtimeagoland, detachment and clinical precision are vaunted; personal and anecdotal statements regarded as suspicious and un-American. “"Let the people decide for themselves,”" critics say, "“We are but torches of objectivity, illuminating truth and distilling fact.”" Fair enough. If people like it and it’s your shtick, then by all means.

It is ultimately, though, self-deceptive window dressing. Objectivity and opinion are mutually exclusive by definition. But it is what it is, and the journalistic culture in America places an undue emphasis on impartiality, so it makes sense that critics would portray themselves as pseudo-journalists in the American thread: impartial and unbiased.

An aside: America is the only nation I can think of where journalists are expected to be objective. This is silly and ultimately dangerous. It’s pretty obvious to me that most networks skew left politically, not necessarily a lot, but enough. I don’t know if other people realize this, I think a lot don’t. When someone quotes FOX News like it’s a bastion of objectivity, I always double-take . When I suggest the network might be pretty damned conservative, I invariably get, "“but don’t they say they’re fair and balanced?"” Like I said, dangerous. Impartiality and journalism are so often placed in tandem that they'’ve become synonymous with each other. “"The narrator'’s style is so passive it’s almost journalistic"”--meaning unbiased, without commentary. The truth. This is patently untrue in most cases.

Hence, in the spirit of truth, journalism and objectivity should be cleaved. It should be okay to affiliate yourself politically. That way you'’re up front with your reasons about story choice, headlines, and other emphases. All over Europe it'’s seen as the craziest thing in the world that American journalists present themselves as unbiased. It’'s a very unjournalistic self-appraisal.

Back to the original point: It’s now obvious in my own life that critical objectivity is impossible. I can'’t review something solely on its merits, there are millions of arbitrary, personal-preference type filtering media that any piece of literature or film or art have to pass through before lodging somewhere in my love/hate cortex. This explains many things that had long been mysteries to me.

Why Roger Ebert liked Benji: Off the Leash, for example.

I spent a day weeding through his past reviews trying to identify a pattern, that one thread in the personal preference matrix of Roger Ebert would make him likely to enjoy that movie. Where was the precedent? I concluded that his opinion, like my own, is highly contextual and often very arbitrary. Every other possibility I could think of required that I write him off as a senile dotard, and I’'m not ready to do that. I don’t think his recent body of criticism warrants it. Nonetheless, there it is, staring you in the face. Roger Ebert liked Benji: Off the Leash.

“it sends a valuable message: Mongrels are just as lovable as pure breeds.”

If you want objectivity, I suggest the following shift in paradigm. Critics are told to spout free-form rants about the subject at hand, in real time, as it happens. Editing is not allowed, save for a single addendum: after the film is over, the book is finished, whatever, the critic takes a survey of activities, administered by a third party. Better yet, his movements are recorded daily by said third party, then added without his/her input.

It would look something like this:

Benji: Off the Leash
A film by Joe Camp, Running time 100 min.

I love dog movies. Oh my God I love dogs, I wish my own dog hadn't died. OMG now he’s running from the dog catcher. Why are dog catchers so mean? These jokes are funny. God I loved Call of the Wild.

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.
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That wasn'’t a very satisfying ending, but whaddryagonnado? Benji is happy, so I am too.
--Roger Ebert

Sleep Cycle: 7 hours | Food intake: Corn Flakes, Ham Sandwich | Sexual intercourse: Yes | Medications: Claritin, Paxil, Rolaids

This way, people get to read the review devoid of editing fluff, literary conceit and other sullying factors, and see that, in addition to his (curious) love of all dog movies ever, this review was skewed by the sex, the Paxil, and maybe the ham sandwich.

That’s objectivity.

My sister is living in a Dorothea Lange photograph, and the homosexual in me wants to get down on my knees and scrub until my fingers bleed.