Critique. (You can take it...)

“Criticism may not be agreeable, but it is necessary.
It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body.
It calls attention to an unhealthy state of things.”
~ Winston Churchill

I am in the mood to do a bit of research on every subject I feel like writing about.

Not when I talk about my traumas, my kids or my daily and boring insanity; but mostly when I touch upon matters that require a more general consensus.

So,

What am I turning into?

I don’t know yet, but I know it does make me slower in my writing process, and perhaps a bit more accurate when expressing an opinion.

Maybe.

Or not.

Yesterday was the first day we had our work critiqued at NYU’s writing class.

It was quite an ordeal.

For starters,

I managed to get almost all of my classmates to hate me.

During my after-math-thought-process I blamed my fucking language barrier that constantly betrays me, but then I processed even further (it was already Midnight) that my English may not be the problem; it’s simply the opinions coming out of my mouth.

They should be filtered, especially among people that don’t know me well enough, to know that I mean well.

The teacher, C, asked us,

- How was your week? Do you have anything to share regarding the critiquing of your fellow classmates work?

(The week before everyone handed out a copy of the 1^st essay to each other)

The first respondent said that it was beautiful, that everything was awesome and how proud she was to be part of this group of writers.

C turned to me – I think, knowing what was about to happen – and I said,

- Well I did find it very difficult to critique the work of others because (and yes, this came out of my mouth) I didn’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings.

All of the students looked at me in awe.

The teacher opened her eyes widely at me and smiled knowingly.

She asked,

- Did you feel like hurting people’s feelings?

I said,

- Oh no, no, no it’s all coming out wrong, what I mean is that some essays seemed to be better than others, some touched me, and others simply didn’t.

God, I thought, I just said something wrong again.

And some of the classmates were starting to feel self-conscious.

Especially one.

Off to a terrible start, I’m such an idiot.

Let’s back up for a second and look at this definition:

Critique is an accepted and established process of orderly scholarly and public debate. In the fine arts and the humanities, and especially in writing, critique is influenced by the scientific method of analysis. Critique is based upon an informed opinion, and never upon personal opinion. Informed opinion is accepted as being technical knowledge, personal or professional experience, or specified training.

Last week, it was indeed hard for me to critique. Some people wrote essays about beautiful table settings or parking cars with the help of their doorman, and it simply didn’t hit a nerve. I am sorry, it just didn’t.

I talk about my kids too much and people don’t give a flying shit, Why would they? But I feel like writing about it at times, regardless. So here’s the thing,
If you critique me for writing about domestic and motherhood bliss, feel free.
I can take it.

And if someone writes about a unique folkloric taste in tableware, they should take it too.

Constructively, here is my critique: I don’t find the premise interesting. The lead doesn’t reel me into the story, at any point.

So,
Dealing with criticism is a skill every well-adjusted man or woman should possess. I know it’s tough but we need to build the fucking stamina. For me, every time the father of my kids criticizes me, I feel my blood boiling. And this is wrong. I should learn to take it like a woman and/or He could try to criticize me less. (You see I can’t really take it like a woman).

We give and take criticism among our co-workers, our friends, and our family. Criticism is an important part of our lives if we are hoping for self-improvement.
And in a writing class, among adults, I would imagine that when receiving criticism, sulking and getting defensive simply shouldn’t fly.

And because criticism happens to be a good thing I am a big fan of Fran Lebowitz. She criticizes it all.
She also believes there is no such thing as inner peace, only nervousness and death.
I kind of agree with her.

Unlike Fran Lebowitz - whom doesn’t likes working with an Editor, for She claims that her writing is hers and hers only – I believe that the only way one can grow as a writer it’s by getting critiqued by other writers.

So… here’s to critique.
Taking it.
And,
Maybe eating it too.