Reply to comment

While I am very much attracted to Sosnoski's idyllic vision of literary criticism as the terrain of "intellectual compassion, commitment, collaboration, concurrence, and community," I feel he made several unfair assumptions along the way to his denunciation of the "mindless man-driven theory machine."

First, he blames men for the current, counterproductive system resting on falsificity that governs literary criticism today.  Now, in one sense, since men have indeed been the ones in charge for so long it seems fair to hold them responsible for the shabby state of things.  However, Sosnoski takes it for granted that falsificity was a tool invented to aid the competitive in a competition they invest themselves in because their masculine natures inspire them to do so.  He tells us that "in the present academy, competitiveness and falsificity are inextricably bound together."  I believe neither that this statement is true, nor that the latter element is neccesarily a force of evil.  I agree with Sosnoski that competititon distracts from the true goal in almost any scenario, shifting our eyes away from finding the truth in literature, for example, and towards personal achievement.  Depending on the desperation of the competitors, these two ends need not have anything to do with one another.  But he also asserts that, "modern criticism is no more than a competition governed by [falsification,] an arbitrary rule." I cannot accept this notion of falsification as arbitrary.  If I am a critic and I believe that I have the truth, it is a noble desire that leads me to disprove the falsehoods that threaten what is right.  Sosnoski never takes into account the possibility that truth might actually be important to a critic, that he or she might care about what happens to a piece of art he or she deems worthy of respect. 

All of this is, of course, assuming that we accept that there are right and wrong interpretations of literature.  Sosnoski is never quite clear on this point.  I tend to think that not all interpretations are created equal.  His notion of compassion intellectual collaboration is a very nice, very democratic idea, and certainly people listening to each other will learn more than people fighting one another, but falsification also has its place.  There are more and less valid, educated interpretations.  I believe that listening and accepting every idea offered can only go so far.  The author inadvertantly proves this himself when he discusses the kind of "intellectual femininity" he considers desirable.  He asks for a world built on "intuition and the confession of error..." Where does this confession of error come from if there is no right and wrong?  If there is a wrong, does it not threaten the truth, and is it not the critic's responsibility to "falsify" it?