MR. AGEE AND THE NEW YORKER
113
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an inaccessible point across a river, we had only to measure the angles
made with· the trans-river point by any two known points on our side, and
then the trans-river point would be as well mapped as if we had been
there. The river was but an instance; one might stay at home and meas–
ure the sun and the moon. It is discouraging on leaving the classroom
to see the method literally applied by Mr. Agee and to a more modest
project, and to find his use of the method authoritatively denounced.
If
Mr. Agee must go, trigonometry must go.
An uneasy feeling persists that Mr. Agee's error is not in his process
but in revealing it; he is not at odds with science but with conventions
of criticism. Perhaps, then, we should examine the true nature of the
rule which he has broken.
It is all right for the book reviewer to dip and read no more; it is
all right for the play reviewer to leave after the first act. These are
perfectly appropriate ways of expressing an unfavorable judgment. But
the critic is not permitted to carry these practices openly to their logical
conclusion. A book or a play may be so bad that he can only take a
small part of it, but apparently must never be so bad that he can admit
to having taken none of it. Incidentally it is an interesting difference
in the conventions of stage and reading that a bad play must be seen
if not in its entirety at least from the beginning-when there is no music
one cannot drop in at the middle of an act; while a book, like a musical
play, can be damned from any random passage. The permissible varia–
tions in practice are so numerous and the requirement that the critic
must give some direct attention to a work, is so easily satisfied, as to in–
dicate that it is not related to the actual functioning of criticism but is
one of its ceremonial necessities, like putting in an appearance in per–
formance of a social obligation.
. After all, to stay away altogether is the only true appreciation of
really bad art.
If
this adm.its of refinement it is solely in terms of who
stays away. Yet it is everyone's privilege to pass this judgment, even
those who never go, and it is denied only to the professional critic–
presumably the one most fit to make it. He is allowed to preach total
abstinence on condition that his practice belies his preachment.
The rule that a critic must always decide on the basis of his own
experience applies only when he condemns; it is not always necessary
when he approves. He may judge many works unread and unseen, so
long as his judgment is favorable. His very inabil,ity to experience them
is often the soundest ground for
his
praise.
From what he is unable to experience to what is difficult
is
only a
step, but it separates the critical .ignorance which may be admitted from
that which must be concealed. "Difficult," when applied to a work of
fiction, is a critical term meaning that it takes more time to read than
a reviewer can afford to spend. Since it is a mere trade necessity which
