September 2021 marks the fourth year
of this blog. So it’s a good time to reflect on myself.
I
believe the quality of articles has increased this year. I don’t
like bragging, but I can’t help but feel like I put a little bit
more effort into my words nowadays. Of course, the editing
contributions of my friend Alex cannot ever be overstated. It’s
thanks to him that my essays look as professional as they do .
Have
I made good on the “an article a month” promise so far? We have 4
months and I need to deliver 6 new posts (counting this). I need to
make up for the past years as well, 2020 was kind of an embarrassment
for the blog all things considered If I give myself 2 weeks between
each article, I have the potential to deliver 8 essays, anything more
would make me run out of topics pretty quickly, somewhat hurts the
visibility of the posts and I don’t think I can even deal with the
workload. But, an article every 2-3 weeks is not so bad, and I am
quite confident to keep up my promise from now on. How? First, a
little story:
When
I was a teenager, there was not much going on with my life. Most of
my time was spent on school and related activities and was quite
isolated in many ways. But then, I started going to university. My
English was now proficient enough and I had lots of free time, so I
could finally surf the Web.
And
surf I did. On various forums, sites like Wikipedia and TVTropes, I
have devoured every novel information like a starved animal, most of
which would be obvious to most of you, but not to me, because I was
living in a bubble. One website in particular would prove quite
influential on me: Youtube.
There
were let’s plays, media reviews, little weird videos and all kinds
of interesting stuff. I have watched so many videos, for years. A
lot. Admittedly too much. However, I got a lot of out of it too:
My
English jumped from “usable” to “casually good”
It
gave me motivation and a pop culture foundation to start this blog!
I
discovered a good 95% of the music I listen to here, especially
anything that’s not from a game or anime soundtrack.
Some
of the best things I have watched were on Youtube. Both educational
and artistically. (A recommendation list is a decent idea for
another blog)
Youtube,
for everything bad about it, is actually a quite amazing free source
of constant and easily-available entertainment, both to listen
casually and to actually learn things from.
It
is also “the constant and easily-available entertainment” part
that has bitten me quite a bit in recent years. Easier than studying,
creating, working, reading, playing, messaging, showering, cleaning…
I won’t say it’s addicting. For one, I have never craved it
constantly. I could do just fine when I did not have access to a
computer. Also, I was well-aware about its ability to eat my time for
years.
But
it was so easy. Just watch this video, maybe that one too. Just a
10-20 minutes before getting into any kind of work. While
distracted, the mouse hovered on Youtube again and again. It’s just
so easy to watch when you just hop on the computer, taking a break,
eating something, feeling tired at night, or just want to do nothing
in particular. Serials or movies are not really the same for me, they
require commitment. Youtube doesn’t. It’s always there.
Occasionally, a circular interest takes over me and for a time, my
use of Youtube will be limited. But, I always return to it not long
after. Occasionally, Twitter has proved itself to be bad for my
productivity as well, but nowhere close to Youtube. Youtube was
always there, was never noticeably dull, and most importantly,
demanded nothing but my time.
I
knew this was draining me slowly and making me quite unproductive.
“Productivity” is a heavily loaded word, but I use it here for
anything I want to do. I love learning, getting better at things, or
just engaging in some art, you know? So, I tried to fight back
against it.
My
method was putting them in the background. Most Youtube videos are
quite understandable without actually seeing them. Occasionally, it
worked well enough. I was writing articles, playing games, chatting
with my friends
and
while catching up to the good content.
These
spikes of productivity were the exact thing that deceived me. After
all, under enough pressure or with a burst of passion I was quite
capable of having a nice couple of productive days. This is exactly
what made idle watching so dangerous. It is how Youtube proved to be
“draining”. “Listening in the background” stretched one hour
of writing into a whole day. Paying attention to anything for long
proved quite difficult. Scant few types of videos are actually
non-distracting, but even they can open a door to distracting videos.
For every one decently productive day, I was having a week of trying
to do anything in the middle of Youtube and Twitter feedback loop. I
was zombie-watching.
About
a few weeks ago, I said enough was enough, and stopped watching
videos.
This
was not giving it up cold turkey, I tried that and that doesn’t
work. Old habits eventually creep in. No, this was a fundamental
shift in how I was going to use the website. I decided that I will
watch Youtube only in two cases:
When
it’s maybe one-two hours away from sleep and I can’t think of
anything better to do.
When
a video is genuinely worth allocating time, I will still prioritize
watching it in “off-work” hours, unless it is relevant to the
work I am doing.
The
immediate effect was to realize how truly draining the
zombie-watching was. Like wow, there is so much time to do things
now. When I want to sit down and study for a couple of hours, I can
do that now. I can write articles without the ebb and flow of my
attention, I don’t have to look at the same screen the whole day
just to be able to write a couple hundred words. I don’t need to
scapegoat responsibilities like cleaning or shopping for my lack of
time, I have time. I don’t need to turn to the same Youtube videos
I have watched a dozen times or refresh the page again and again just
so I can distract myself from the gnawing feeling that my life is
slipping away. When I lay in the bed I don’t have to think about
how I am useless and unable to achieve anything. I have never been
this productive for this long even with some external force pushing
me. It doesn’t feel like a sprint either, I just have the willpower
to start and finish any task, something I have lacked since I began
10th
grade. Knock on wood...
After
not watching for a while, not watching indeed has proved quite easy.
This is how I can say with certainty that I wasn’t addicted.
Regardless of the quality of their videos, I wasn’t following most
channels I did out of active interest. They were just good enough
content that I can use as someone would get drunk to forget the
pains. Quitting made me actually appreciate the limited time I now
spend watching videos. They feel enjoyable in a way that the
never-ending mill of content I was half-watching while trying to do
something never was. They stopped being “content”, they became
comedy, opinion pieces, documentaries, tutorials, cute animal videos
again.
The
final revelation was that I was, actually, quite bored. I craved
something that wasn’t Youtube, that wasn’t just someone else's
opinion or research. I wanted to engage in art, to learn and to
create! After a long time, I played video games again, and without
trying to listen to something in the background, without Alt-Tabbing
every ten minutes to check the timeline or refresh the Youtube page!
And I found out that my habits made me somewhat fragile! A couple of
years ago, I was able to play games for hours and hours without
breaking a sweat, now playing more than about 4-5 hours makes me
somewhat tired. But it’s all good, it means the brain is getting
used to paying attention again.
Part
of the reason why the new posts were coming so erratically was that I
was plainly having a hard time coming up with something interesting.
Living so passively drained my creativity quite a bit too. The topics
I have written about for a couple of months were either long in the
drafts, or were found by mere accident. Sometimes, old ideas did not
help either. Some topics have been in the drafts for so long that I
have completely forgotten my opinions about them. In retrospect, it
is actually miraculous that the posts turned out as good as they
have.
My
sole steady creative output was my amateur constructed language
project, which I gave a little introduction here last year. After a
couple of months, it too succumbed to my circling interests. There
were other excuses too of course, like school and housework. Months
later, I returned to work on it, but didn’t like where it was
going, and began anew. It’s 90% thanks to that project that I was
spared from falling into serious mental issues, quite similar to how
I was using this very for a similar effect back in 2017-2018. That
time, being enrolled in graduate school saved me. This time, it’s
entirely through my own efforts and some feedback from my family. No
more trying to write anything in between endlessly chasing every new
video or tweet. I am really determined. I won’t feel terrible for
my own foolish habits! No more!
So
then, what will I do instead? Maybe watching some anime I wanted to
watch for years, reading and finishing some physical books, paying
proper attention to my school, doing real programming work, actually
planning a program to study Japanese in a disciplined manner and so
on…
What
does this mean for you, dear reader? Well, as stated before, I intend
to release a new essay every 2-3 weeks. I can’t always guarantee
that they will be as big as the previous one, but hopefully, you
won’t be disappointed quality-wise.
I
don’t like to publicly declare article topics because I can change
ideas fairly easily, but you might see a couple of articles on video
game genres. That topic is quite interesting to me, and it’s
something I can endlessly talk about. I could also remake more
articles. The ones that are old enough that most people won’t
remember. A lot of stuff on the website could use a clean up.
Perhaps my opinions have even changed since then. In particular,
Battle of Middle Earth
articles still stand out as disappointments to me. Other than that
I won’t promise anything too specific, just your usual video game
musings, and perhaps some other media critique as well. I hope you
enjoy those!
One
topic that was in my head for quite a while is how to present my
conlang project. Should I do it when it is developed to a certain
point or should I release small stuff while I am doing it? Unless you
are already greatly into conlangs, neither seems like an interesting
prospect. I want to make it appealing to a more general audience, and
maybe get people more interested in languages too? Lofty ideas,
surely, but a woman can dream.
Certainly,
I have a lot of dreams. One of them is to have another 4 years
writing this blog. 4 good years. Perhaps one day, it will be more
famous. But I don’t care too much. Enjoying that there is a place I
can organize my thoughts and knowing that other people also get to
enjoy seeing it matters by itself. Being able to make an allowance on
top is already miraculous enough. Perhaps one day I will gather
confidence, discipline and enough literature background to try
fiction writing too.
For
that to happen, I need to avoid falling back to destructive cycles
again. So far, it’s going pretty alright, but there are still
improvements to be made. Some say that worrying about time efficiency
is a product of capitalism. Which is largely correct, and we need to
all remember that we are not factories, that mindset is equally
destructive. But no matter what, I plainly don’t like the feeling
that I am doing nothing with my time. If I could live in a society
where I could sleep all day without any repercussions, the feeling
would still haunt me. At its core, it’s not really about a sense of
responsibility towards others, but something deeper. Not a cry to
“Create, create, create!” but a raw desire to keep the
thought-mill spinning. Daydreaming has been my most defining trait
since when I was a wee child. Dreams forever await me to weave. And
for that, time must be used cleverly. There is no merit to cry over
wasted opportunities, no point in worrying about an uncontrollable
future. I just want the seconds slipping away at this very moment to
amount to something.
Just not empty-brain watching life as a film reel.
My
advice for you is the same too, dear reader. If you sincerely feel
that Twitter, Youtube, Reddit, a Discord channel, a video game or any
other nominally recreational way to spend your time is making you
miserable, then quit!
Perhaps you don’t need
to give up entirely, then restrict yourself! Customize the social
media for your benefit, don’t finish the series you don’t enjoy.
Stop making memes about how you keep doing the thing you hate. Change
is not easy, it took me so long for me to fully gain this level of
consciousness, you might have many additional problems that push you
into this cycle, and the entertainment industry very much feeds on
people’s bad habits. Something in our hearts wants to keep us in
perpetual misery in regret and yearning. It seems inescapable at
times. But know this, you are never too late to reclaim your present,
no matter how many times you have relapsed. Your day can always be a
little better...
---
This
article is written thanks to my dearest Patrons, namely: Effy, Laura
Watson, MasterofCubes, Makkovar, Morgan, Olympia, Otakundead, Sasha.
Also thanks to Alex(@jyhadscientist on Twitter) for his perfect
editing work
How
can I write better about games? What do I look for in a video game
essay, and to some extent, media critique as a whole? Review,
retrospective, critique or analysis; for the purposes of this
discussion, they are all essays about a released game or part of a
game.
A central theory:
For a long time, game
reviews were written in order to draw attention to the games as much
as, if not more than, to critique them. As these essays were pretty
much the only way to get any information on the games, and too many
of the reviews served as barely-concealed advertisements, some still
do even now. Nowadays, this function is now performed by long video
essays; while they are often referred to as critiques, they are
really commentated walkthroughs with some critique in them. To be
clear, I love those kinds of videos; there is true journalistic value
in a traditional review that combines basic impressions and breakdown
of a game’s success on performance, accessibility, whether it
justifies its price etc, but they don’t have the captivating
essence of media criticism in them. A
critique essay is different in that, it provides a theory,
a core statement from one or multiple perspectives established by the
author.
Descriptiveness:
A common beginner’s trap
in fiction-writing is to overuse adjectives. Essay-writing has the
opposite problem, pages can be easily filled with a swarm of alluring
and all-encompassing descriptors like “good”, “bad”, “love”
or“don’t like'', followed copious usage of “very”, “really”
or “absolutely”. These words are easy to use because they are so
simple; yet often, they are loaded with meanings they cannot carry. A
sentence such as “I enjoy it but it’s bad” is okay to say
casually but sounds utterly meaningless in a text which is supposed
to define a perspective to view the game.
Anyone can make a list of
“pros” and “cons”, a fundamental requirement for a good essay
is to dig under that. I purposely limit
the use of these words
in my essays so that I can avoid staying on surface level and make my
writing more evocative.
Openness
A sibling problem to the
lack of creative descriptors is to rely on overly vague words and
phrases, most of which are marketing buzzwords, unsurprisingly.
Fantasy settings
categorically cannot be “realistic”. The sense of believability
they are aiming to achieve can be called “verisimilitude”.
“JRPG” doesn’t
mean the game has “turn-based combat” or “anime style
visuals”. It just means “a RPG of Japanese origin”.
“Anime-style” is
quite vague too. Does it mean “a bright color palette, somewhat
life-like proportions with simplified faces?” That doesn’t say
much, at least giving an example from a show, director, studio etc.
would be much more helpful.
“Generic” is not a
terrible word in the abstract but assuming that the reader has a
similar range of media exposure as the essayist has, however, is.
“Not a real video
game”, alongside terms like “walking simulator”, often
collapses the multitude of ways we can understand interactivity into
strangely derogatory statements about who gets to sit with the big
boys.
“A Skinner box
game/system” is sometimes used as a cooler way to say shallowly
repetitive but it is much more fitting to games which are designed
to be as addictive as possible, at the expense of the player.
Nearly all instances
of “objective(ly)” either can be safely removed from a sentence
or replaced with a synonym of “definitely”.
“Subjective(ly)”
either means “please don’t harass me over this”, which is sad
but understandable, or an eye-rolling way to express preference over
an “objective” idea.
No “deconstruction”,
“subversive” or “ground-breaking” please, unless you have a
strong grasp on genre history.
If we define
“allegory” as it is used in “allegory of the cave”, then it
does require a strong hint at authorial intent, at least.
Games which are openly
backed by publishers are sometimes called “indie”. Quite jarring
to read when the author clearly doesn’t know what “itch.io”
is.
Creators may be
“pretentious”, but when applied to individual works the word
becomes a roundabout and, dare I say, pretentious way to call them
bad.
“Overrated”
doesn’t tell me much. Who is praising the game too much? Why does
that matter in the critique? Another inferior replacement for “bad”.
“Underrated” is
mostly harmless but occasionally applied to games which have already
entered many best games lists. It is not the same as “niche”.
A “niche” game can
be said to have sharp features that appeal to people with a
dedicated interest. It is not necessarily unpopular, but also not
something that would get extensive coverage or be played by every
moderately large streamer on release day, either.
While it is not very
common in game reviews, possibly because video games often aim for a
power fantasy appeal, “Mary Sue” is still shallow and very
markedly gendered.
Words like “modern
classic”, “masterpiece” or “magnum opus” lose their weight
when they are used for any new slightly impressive game. Writers
should exercise restraint and let their experience simmer, and test
how it holds up over time.
For that matter,
“experience” can be easily over-used too. Games-writing can
easily drown in words like this if we are not conscious about them.
Truthfully, all words have
a potential to feel empty if the author uses them as shorthands for
concepts that you have a drastically different understanding of; it
is the author’s job to make sure you are on the same page. This is
why I force myself to be
open with my assumptions, expectations, standards and biases as much
as possible. A
consistent terminology also contributes to a healthier collective
vocabulary for discourse around gaming.
Leaning into the heart:
An objective text about a
game would be merely a series of observations without any commentary.
An essay will always be biased. A good essay owns up to its biases.
It doesn’t make arbitrary separations between taste and “quality”.
It doesn’t attack nor necessarily affirm other tastes. It doesn’t
downplay its preferences to revere an imagined authority. It doesn’t
make vast cultural observations based solely on personal judgement.
I try my best to
avoid using subjectivity as an excuse to avoid deeper analysis, nor
use objectivity to seem convincing.
Nothing is ever too personal to dissect, as often said about humor or
music. There is no reason to start sentences with “I think”, “I
feel” or “I believe” unless the clarification actually helps.
Nothing is too universal to ascend personal preferences, something
that some essayists seek to achieve by using words like “fact”,
“design”, “system”, “framework”, “writing”, or
“cinematography”.
A window to the writer:
Writing a critique is a
statement that sharing opinions matters in and of itself. It doesn’t
need, and shouldn’t be burdened by a mission to convert people or
make a definitive statement that ends a discussion forever. It
doesn’t need to provide helpful feedback to the developers, it’s
not a beta test report.
Whether I agree with an
essay or not doesn’t matter much.
A good essay that I agree with helps to put my thoughts into words.
If I disagree with it, it gives me insights into someone else’s
world. Above all else, a great essay is a journey I undertake with
the author, a journey which I discover not only new perspectives on
games, but also, new things about myself.
Boldness:
A good essay doesn’t
mince words. It isn’t swallowed in the pitch dark hole of nuance.
It is exactly as positive or negative as it wants to be. More than
that, great essays often go
beyond the dichotomy of praise and criticism,
they dissect and rebuild the object of critique in fresh, complex and
imaginative ways, unrestrained by authorial intent or common cultural
observations.
However, I can understand
the hesitance. The audience of video games are often defensive to the
point of inciting harassment towards game critics simply over
mentioning things that exist in the game. Frequently, any sign of
confidence receives accusations of being aggressive or pretentious,
especially when the writer is perceived as undeserving e.g a woman.
Paradoxically, there is also an incentive to bring out as many flaws
as possible, to take a beloved game down a peg, and to be loudest and
the most confrontational voice in the room.
This is another reason why
staying true to the heart is so important. In great essays, even the
harshest words can sound passionate. A purely nitpicky essay in
contrast, often grasps at straws, contradicts itself multiple times
or worse, will be flatly dishonest about the source material and it
becomes clear that the writer doesn’t really care about the game
they have chosen to write about.
Responsibility
Even essays with a small
audience base like mine have an impact on people, it colors their
opinion about media in some way. If my essays paint a fledgling
creator’s work in an excessively unfavorable light, or drunkenly
sing about the newest corporate game that carries an undeniable
amount of taint within it, what do they add to the discussion? This
is not a matter of tone nor a call to uphold some vague idea of
fairness and certainly, no media is beyond critique but rather,
critique is not always the most important thing to write about with
regards to media. What always matters is, essays
shouldn’t cause harm.
Highlighting creators
Game industry has a
crediting problem and it spills into media about games too. It’s
all too common to only name studios and publishers, and maybe a
couple of famous directors. But most games are collaborative efforts
and individuals leave a lot of footprint in the games they work on.
So, we should grow a
habit of highlighting creators whenever appropriate.
Including content
warnings
Playing great games with
full knowledge often allows us to play the game in more enjoyable
ways that a blind playthrough simply cannot provide. Seeing something
for the first time is not really that crucial. However, it is still a
unique experience we can only have once. It doesn’t matter how old
or popular a piece of media is, it is guaranteed that the significant
majority of the world has not seen it. Readers also have a right to
know if they will read something mood-crushing or triggering. This is
why content
warnings, both for spoilers and sensitive material alike should be a
standard practice for essays.
This way, essayists can both be considerate and write without caring
about spoilers. Indeed, spoiling the game is necessary, there is
simply no way to do comparative media analysis, discuss themes or
convey the game’s impact without going in as deep as needed.
Diligence
Lack of research is often
better at spreading misinformation than blatant lies. A good essay
requires avoids falling into the behavior such as:
Recycling common video
game myths, rumors and factoids.
Presenting
speculations as facts.
Mixing canon and
personal reading. To be clear, I don’t put much value on “canon”
in my understanding of media, but it is still crucial not to
misrepresent the text.
Falsely quoting
creators. This happens to non-English creators more often, due to
mistranslations.
Speaking confidently
about production, media history, creators etc. without proper
sources to back up claims.
Exaggerating for the
sake of comedy in a way that blends with sincere statements.
Of course, writing a video
game essay doesn’t have to be as serious as preparing a doctorate
thesis. Nevertheless, double
checking information is an ethical duty.
Building upon the
essayist’s experience
A common drive behind
misinformation is the essayist’s unfortunate belief that their
words will be taken seriously only if they sound as authoritative as
possible. This is false, there is no need to be an expert on game
development, a highly skilled player or have the fortune of playing
hundreds of different games. Such perspectives can be also quite
interesting but they are not necessarily more valuable than someone
who has only recently played their first video game ever.
Another misguided belief is
that the author should check every bit of content a game has to offer
and make multiple runs if able. Of course it is admirable when the
writer is dedicated, but no, games are not inherently entitled to
completionism. Most games enter into a predictable routine after a
couple of hours, no story is owed endless patience and “it gets
good later” can be easily argued as a critical design flaw in
itself, especially in a medium that can be highly demanding of time.
More importantly, the
author only needs to represent their own experience and there are all
kinds of experiences worth writing about!
If a game is not worth completing, the boredom or the frustration
should be on the page. As far as essay-writing is concerned, there is
no wrong way to play. An essayist might decide that they will push
the game to its limits, might go to an adventure as a novice player
in a competitive scene, try out a game from a genre they normally
hate, or tackle games only from very specific standpoint like gay
relationships or the quality of fishing mini-games. Even watching
someone playing games is a different but valid way to engage with
games.
Authors just need to be
honest about where they base their opinions from. One thing not to do
is to reiterate common sentiments without any personal spin, that’s
what review aggregate sites are for. Ranting about a “terrible
game” is only fun when the writer has a tangential connection to it
.
Freedom from nostalgia
Nostalgia is plainly a bad
basis for critique. Not because it is an authorial bias , that’s
fine and dandy, but because it is not a true personal connection.
When romanticizing the
past, the object of attachment is interchangeable. The game is only
tangentially part of the critic’s pink memories, in the same way
anything can be fun with friends. It could be easily replaced with a
toy, a room, a pair of socks, a roll of toilet paper, a supermarket
or a brand of cereals. Because nothing specific about the game is
tied to nostalgia, it latches on arbitrary characteristics instead;
this can make it difficult for a writer
to separate where their usual expectations and standards end and the
wild reminiscing of “the better days” begins.
Criticism imprisoned in
nostalgia is a fruitless search for an answer. It is an endeavor to
come up with contradictory and endlessly-shifting reasons for
disappointment with a game, a series or video games as a whole. It is
painful to read, because nothing can bring back the writer’s past.
It is perfectly fine to say
“I have so many good memories with this game”, but if I can’t
even find any reasons why the game gives those memories, there isn’t
much point to write an essay, is there?
Brevity
It is invaluable for me to
internalize parting
ways with my sentences and trim everything down until all words flow
from the core idea.
It is actually quite easy to write a lot, but finding the perfect
length is an underrated craft.
Video essays are infamous
for their length, but brevity is even more important for written
content. Unless you are a known games-writer or write about new,
shiny, topical games; people tend to not read essays over about
4000-5000 words. My personal ideal is the range of 2000-3000 words,
that’s enough to perfectly cover all my opinions without going off
rails. If there are paragraphs that feel worth keeping but also look
isolated from rest, then that block can be expanded into its own
article.
Brief beginnings and
memorable endings
It’s very tempting to
start essays with a weasel like “[insert topic] is
popular/important”, and continue it for an entire paragraph. In
truth, we all know no one reads those, yet we do it anyway because
introductions can be seriously paralyzing. When this is the case, I
advise to dive right
into the heart of the matter and leave beginning to later.
It is much easier to write intros when the essay has a solid shape.
When you get ready, you can choose between two main styles:
Setting
the topic: List
the questions and claims that will be examined and define the
subject of the critique. Academic essays use this method a lot
because the intro can reliably be extracted from the text itself.
Setting
the mood: An
anecdote, some purple prose, a quick rundown of history or a funny
quote. Featured essays on magazines or websites often have stylistic
touches to make them memorable. I usually don’t do this but they
can be fun in the right hands.
Writing an ending is more
straightforward. You can summarize your ideas and give a final
verdict, that’s a safe and sound method. But an ending can be more
than that: “Writing is a journey” is not just a sappy line, an
essay can be concluded in such an astonishing way that can transform
even any basic opinion into a profound statement.
At the very least, the reader will not feel like their time is
wasted.
I hope that you find my
introspection about games-writing worth your time too!
This article is written
thanks to my dearest Patrons, namely: Acelin, Effy, Laura Watson,
MasterofCubes, Makkovar, Morgan, Olympia, Otakundead, Sasha. Also
thanks to Alex (@jyhadscientist on twitter) for his perfect editing
work.
What does it mean to seperate the art from the artist? It seems to have two meanings which are used as one and the same:
"Am I allowed to enjoy media from bad artists?" Yes, I have made peace with the facts that most creators probably disdain me in one way or another, and abusive behavior is not exclusive to a small group of evil people. Worrying about making good customer choices is an endless pit of misery that helps nothing. One should also keep in mind that for every despicable artist out there, there are many marginalized creators deserving more support; but I think this is a seperate issue which shouldn't be conflated with customer activism.
"The critique of art should be seperated from the artist." Yes, I wholeheartedly agree. Audience has a deeply personal relationship with art, and art critique should always prioritize this relationship over the artist. I have discussed this on detail before(click here), so won't do so here again.
Thus, my answer to the regularly re-heated debate : We should seperate the art from the artist. There is a more interesting question however: What happens when we can't?
Sometimes we reach our personal limits. Everyone can understand creating good art doesn't make a creator morally uptight. Yet still, creators leave a part of themselves in art, so when they cross the line, their mere association might feel to much. Sometimes it's just not the same anymore.
Sometimes, the artist and a fanbase works hard to make sure the art from its artist inseperable. Perhaps the most salient example of this is Harry Potter.
If you have observed how people tend to talk about Harry Potter in media, you would certainly caught the weird tone the discussions have. HP discussions often has. Characters are mentioned as if they are real, the plot is discussed as it is a piece of world history. This is not exclusive to HP, and its wish-fulfillment aspect might make people to indulge in its world and lore a little too much, but what's unique about HP is how this behavior is enabled and endorsed to the staggering degree by the author. The author drops lore bits, celebrates characters' birthdays and muses about events in the story. This is actually nothing too absurd in itself, it could be even cute and tounge-in-cheek. However, the author and fans constantly do this, frequently referencing HP when talk about real politics. To someone lacking any context, it would actually seem like these people are in a very involved role-play, or worse, believe Harry Potter is non-fiction.
No, what's happening here is not that simple. Harry Potter fandom and the author denies the series' from existing as fictional novels, or literature at all. It is treated as a documentary, a reality TV show, and a political manifesto. This attitude is so widespread that even the critics sometimes do this. They say: "The author is no doubt such a reactionary, look at Harry Potter, it is filled with so much of this!" Such critiques fail on two fronts:
Harry Potter as a whole is not a series with a consistent world-building. It takes many assumptions as granted. For example, for a series so much focused on death, most related concepts left blank. The series only make sense if you already know and agree with Christianity, which is notable bacuse series never once discuss religion. Harry Potter is a magic-decorated world from the view of a cis-straight middle-class-turned-rich Brit. What "political themes" present in the book are mostly a cluster of truisms flowing from it. Of course all characters would end up being married at the end of the book, what else are "normal healthy adults" supposed to do?
Harry Potter, or any other art piece, is completely irrelevant to the author's behavior. If the series were just uplifting children's tales, this wouldn't change anything about author being a raging transphobe. Conversely, if the author was the truly vagely progressive person a lot of people thought as, that should have no relevance to HP as piece with neoliberal-misogynst themes.
This shows how truly difficult is to seperate HP from its author. If you have read any Harry Potter content in English, the author's shadow seem inescepable.
Still, it is not impossible. When I read the series when I was a kid, I didn't know anything about the author. As much as knowing about the beliefs of the transphobic author makes me see some parts in the series in different light, I never really needed that knowledge. No one really does. People merely has a habit of thinking literary criticism as something mostly applies to art from the artists they don't like.
I wish people stopped talking about that transphobic millionare when there are much more important issues even in the scope of trans struggles. However if they want to talk about that person so much, they should leave Harry Potter, Fantastic Beast or whatever fiction the author have involved in. Not as a respect to sancity of nostalgia or anything of the sort, but because personal criticism and art critique are entirely different matters. If you are unwilling to seperate art from the artist, then at least try to seperate the artist from the art. This article is written thanks to my dearest Patrons and special thanks to: Acelin, Alexandra Morgan, Laura Watson, MasterofCubes, Makkovar, Otakundead and Spencer Gill.
I love The Room(2003) a lot. The alien world presented in a
late 90s city aesthetic, the way Johnny becomes alive in the screen,
the daring sex scenes, the impeccable dialogue, the naturalistic scenes,
how the dramatic music is juxtaposed with everything else, and all the
other small details create a magnificent experience we will perhaps be
able to see only in this movie. I usually can’t remember movie quotes,
even after watching them several times, but the dialogue in this movie
is very easy to remember despite how mundane the conversations often
are. The combination of the great dialogue and bizzare visuals create
many, many perfectly memorable scenes. Whether it’s the small talk in
the flower shop, two guys throwing a ball at each other in a weak
attempt to replicate how humans actually play sports, Johnny throwing
the plastic bottle to the floor, the sex scenes which manage to erase
all the sexual tension from the movie; all scenes bring their unique
flavor while also building up to a unified tone. The acting undoubtedly
play a huge part in this. When you pick apart scene by scene, most of
the acting is — albeit filled with golden moments — nothing legendary on
its own; but together they all contribute to the otherworldly, surreal
feeling that’s present in every shot of the movie. Of course, Tommy
himself dominates pretty much every scene he is in, creating all the
memetic scenes we love. For me it’s more than “weird funny speaking”, it
doesn’t really make me burst out laughing, but rather I am simply
amazed at the character that comes alive in Johnny’s acting. It is a
truly brilliant performance, had Johnny been “just himself” or tried to
act more restrained it would not be the same way. The end result is as
it is right now only because he really wanted to act as a nice person
who got inexplicably betrayed by his lover. As video creator Hbomberguy
puts it in his video (link),
the movie is an honest representation of the way misogyny operates in
how cis straight men view relationships. Had movie been more “competent”
in certain ways, for example had it succeeded to connect people with
Johnny as a unjustly wronged man, it would be actually a worse movie. It
would speak to many guys who “can’t just understand women”, and
criticisms of such a depiction would be regarded as cynical. I can
pratcially hear people saying “Are you saying men don’t get betrayed or
what?” and feeling really smart about it. By being “worse”, it’s much
more wholesome, bizzare, memorable experience that is also a honest
examination of men-women relationships and much easier to dissect
without someone feeling like being insulted. Dare I say, The Room is a “good” movie.
Multiple copy-pasted Johnny’s throwing the bottle at the roof scene
Now, someone (which I admit to exaggerate for the sake of argument) might say:
Great art is a product of great minds. And art is
essentially a transmission of ideas and emotions from the creator
towards the audience. A work of art consists of two things: Intent, the
underlying concepts, themes, the premise etc, and the execution: the way
creator transmits the intent. So, if the intent is great and it is
communicated well, then the the work is good and creator is talented. If
you happen to enjoy something in any other combination, then it’s just
bad art you like, accidentally.
A more accurate model of art would be someone shouting poetry they
wrote a while ago, but now does not fully remember to a stranger across a
busting, crowded street. Perhaps the listener doesn’t know the
language, perhaps they can’t even hear at all. Perhaps there is a music
playing. Perhaps, there are two people having a heated argument. If the
“poem” is to be alive as an artwork and not mere ink splattered on
paper, the street itself and the condition of the listener are as
important as what the poet wrote and how they are shouting it. A
unintenional interpretation is never true accidents in the vein of
forgetting to save your file or putting wrong laundry to the washing
machine, people will always hear things in the ways you did not
intend. On the process of the creation, far it be from the flawless
plans, or — even worse — whimsical inspirations of great minds,
decisions are often made on coincidences, the particular mood of
creators, compromises on not only with resources at hand, but with team
members and one’s very own conflicting opinions. After many hours of
meticulous planning, careful execution, discussions and retakes; they
all fail, as art is human, that’s what art makes so special
[1]. They are not computer programs that are expected to give
predictable output, where unexpected result is to be simply cast aside
as error.
Speaking of computer programs, despite being built on them, in video
games the mistakes of the machine themselves become genuine expressions.
In Pokémon(1995-2018+) series, there are “X Items” which increase a certain stat of a ‘mon by certain amount during the battles. In Pokémon: Red/Green/Blue/Yellow(1995-1998)
games, instead of raising the value, X accuracy simply removed the
check for accuracy. This mistake did not result in an inferior game
overall, many simply did not care enough for X items and for others, it
was an opportunity for new strategies. Its existence brings a legitimate
question about the place of move accuracy in the design: As the later
installments brought more and more ways to deal with the accuracy,
removing the accuracy check outright proved to be the most popular
method. However, one can also make the argument that getting rid of
accuracy too easily would take the risk from using poweful moves, remove
the thrill that chance factor provides, and make certain mechanics like
sleeping even more broken, so a balance is necessary. Perhaps then, the
glitch isn’t necessarily inferior, but also neither reveals a fatal
flaw; instead it creates a different and equally valuable experience. In
video games, this phenomena happens all the time(link),
even in works which aren’t (in)famous for its bugs, it’s not always
easy to differentiate oversights from “intended features”, and it’s not
rare to see glitches later being adopted as “true mechanics” by the
developers. In “Are video games art?” discourse people often brought
examples of games which held as brilliant creations; but for me
something like out-of-bounds glitch is precisely what makes video games
so unique, complex, messy and human, like what art is at its core…
I can hear a certain objection:
If we have it your way, then we can’t differentiate
between a picture made with effort and dye poured over paper or random
outputs from a computer. You imply that skill or effort isn’t relevant.
Creators should not limit our personal relationship with art, but
this doesn’t really imply we need to treat art like something which
sprung the existence out of thin air. All works carry a part of their
creator, accepting author as “dead” does not contradict this. Rather,
it’s a natural conclusion of this thought, the meta context does not
rule over my experience, but rather becomes subservient to it.
Definitely, what makes The Room what it is now is deeply
connected to who Johnny Viseau is and the fact that he wanted to make a
drama movie. Enjoying the movie as an anonymous comedy flick is also
perfectly fine, but to me, this context makes it all better. Best art
truly comes from what’s deeply personal, and The Room is a
“mistake” that was born from the depths of a man’s heart, and shaped
with the honest effort of the cast. This separates it from creations
which are “deliberately bad” or “random”, even as parodies, they
sometimes succumb to feel cold. A good example are the games whose wacky
glitches were the main appeal are funny, they often don’t have the
charm and the lasting appeal of bugs in Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion(2006),
as they are in a context where they transcend being mere accidents.
Trainwrecks can be interesting to look at, but they eventually need to
be cleaned up; artistic media is on the other hand is meaningful with
its failures as much as its successes. Bioshock Infinite(2013) is a game that I don’t have many
positive feelings about. It is too fast and frantic, wastes its own
setup for a less interesting conclusion, somewhat emotionally empty,
overall vastly inferior to Bioshock 2(2010). Yet, Bioshock Infinite
is certainly competent. The creators were excellent at tension
escelation, creating an alive city, using visuals to struck the player
in awe while indulging in relentless gore, the music, the character
writing, the voice acting, the controls, the guns, the machines, the
cinematography of cutscenes… and many more little things. And this isn’t
merely a matter of opinion, they are just able to hit certain notes for
a certain player base. There isn’t too much magic to it, just hard
work and experience. Popular things are popular because they are
competent. However… doesn’t this refute me? If there is a reliable
metric for art to create a range of feedback from a range of groups of
audience, then what I am rambling about here? Then, there is a merit to
this random quote[2] from Twitter:
“…. there is no GOOD fantasy literature. There is fantasy literature you LIKE, and that’s great, I’m not saying that’s wrong…”
In similar vein, maybe I am just wrong about Bioshock Infinite?
Maybe people are wrong about liking trash? Maybe endless debates
between music genres are meaningful? I might just have the wrong mood or
mindset, or my tastes might not be trained enough to appreciate good
art? I mean, classics are classics for good reason, after all…
No.
First of all, “skill” cannot be isolated from the context which art resides. From today’s perspective, Half-Life(1997)’s
complete rejection of cutscenes, at times excessive dedication to leave
the player on their own, tight first-person platform sequences feels
outlandish. Especially US military not only being depicted as an
antagonist but doing so in a manner that’s eerily accurate to its real
life behavior seems downright absurd for a big budget game of today, but
yet it was the state-of-the-art PC game of its year. In 1997, it was
the next stage for FPS games and 3D engines. If the same exact game has
been released in 2007; it would be seen as outdated, unprofessional,
lacking of content, perhaps controversial for its portrayal. In 2017, it
would be seen as an avant garde indie project, a call back to the past,
and most likely too “sjw” for some. In all cases, audience are
certainly different, but developers have exact skill for level design,
3D modeling, sound design and writing, and for the sake of argument,
same mindset. Even so, a “Half Life” of 1997, 2007 and 2017 would still
be not the same games. They have the same pixels but they point to
different people, a different world, a different time, a different
existence. The fact that even marginal differences in time, place,
socioecological background, life experiences, beliefs, momentary mood,
art viewing habits, the platform which art is being viewed by and other
many minor hard to predict elements all not only influence how people
judge the quality but also shape the very existence of art in society in
the first place makes it very daunting — I would say, impossible — to
find metrics for judge the whatever true goals art should exists for,
unless we just decide — as people who try to define rules for art often
do — the people who experience art is completely irrelevant to this
discussion.
Even if we could find an objective — or inclusive enough — mission
for art, it would mean nothing, because all it achieves is to make
people enjoy art less. “This isn’t good but I really like it.”, “I just
enjoy trash sometimes”, “I like this more but I just have a bad taste.”,
“You may not like this, but it’s still very important.” are
some of the phrases I commonly encounter. (Often in jest, but just as
commonly with full sincerely). Adding (however subtle) social pressure
to keep art from the person only scrubs all meaning from it. Instead of
being transgressive, de-personalized art is a tool of conformity.
Instead of being the voice of the silenced, it becomes a tool of
propaganda for status-quo. Instead of personal catharsis, it exists as
source of pre-approved thoughts and feelings. Before gaining the heart
of the reader, de-personalized art aims for “higher”, more prestige,
more numbers, more approval… Any kind of set standards stop improving
art and instead art becomes a mere tool to reproduce these standards.
Obviously, art cannot become truly de-personalized, so what I am talking
is hypothetical; but the idea of what art means for mere individuals is
a secondary concern was and is a quite a common opinion. Aristocrats,
radical thinkers, many academics, the Church and stakeholders of
intellectual properties all love their standards, their values, their
rules, their “refined taste”, they all contempt “trivial”,
“unambitious, “lazy”, “shallow”, “mediocre” art.
The words “good” or “bad” are extremely loaded when it comes to
media. If they were only easy shorthands for a group of personally
chosen metrics, something like “I liked the bad movie” would be entirely
fine. Unfortunately, there is definitely a collective crutch to our
relationship with media, if we weren’t so obsessed to separate “great”
art from others, then why there are so much content about praising
extremely popular media and drag-down hated ones? The moment a person
starts to be slightly conscious about media, they have a chance to bow
to the tyranny of the masterpiece, where “I liked the movie
because it had cool special FX” is no longer an acceptable take, now it
must be “groundbreaking”, “classic”, “meaningful”, “important”. So, “bad
art” now instead describes the opposite: “wretched”, “cheap”,” lazy”,
“immoral”, but still “great” in the opposite the way. “Liking trash” is a
powerful phrase because not only one makes it clear that they share the
same values on which metrics make a work of art great, but it also
saves oneself from the greatest curse of all: Mediocrity!
In most contexts, “mediocre” really seems to be worst insult for a
work of art. “Forgettable”, “lackluster”, “not a masterpiece”, “flawed”,
“average”, the opposite of “great”, art which is blamed to a serve no
purpose other than itself. “Mediocre” art comes in two flavors: The
first kind is “derivative” and “safe” one, it does not challenge the
audience enough, often “done for cash”. The second is “failed
experiments”, it challenges the audience too much, too “unfamiliar”,
“interesting but unpolished”. Either way, they fail at being “great”.
Here, it’s assumed that money is merely something keeps art from
reaching it’s “true” purpose, but marketability, or simply getting a
paycheck, is just another external goal, like spreading propaganda,
honoring your commisoner sultan, playing an instrument to be cool and
attractive or doimg calligraphy because that just what your family has
always did. And a lot of popular “mediocre” media is excellent at being
marketable, it takes serious skill to depict realistic issues while
avoiding saying anything controversial about them, to use flashy parts
to keep the audience from thinking too much about details, landing a
edgy but still family-friendly and uncontroversial humor, coming up with
witty quotes, memorable shots, cool merchandise-friendly designs while
consistently maintaining a certain degree of fun. Sure, popularity isn’t
an indicator of merit, it’s mostly an indicator of advertising power
and luck, but the content still needs to be advertisable. In that way
Marvel movies are skilled, competent, “objectively good” art; in the way
a more flawed older superhero movie is not. Prioritizing standards over
personal connection will not only encourage conformism among the
audience, but creators as well. This is true for the designs of the
beautiful mosques of certain periods, explicitly mission-oriented art
movements and the commodification of art alike, the difference is that
commodification clearly enforces conformity on an unprecendented scale
and magnitude, as capitalism does. When it comes to this, people often
want to have their cake and eat it too: “Oh, objective standards matter,
but this popular trash doesn’t follow my standards!” No, your
standards are also derived from how you feel about art, if you enforce
impersonal standards, then in the end your own personal standards will
also get invalidated: Spiderman Into the Spider Verse(2018)
is a movie a lot of people like a lot. I have never witnessed people
talking so passionately about a superhero movie before, yet it was one
of the less profitable Spiderman movies(for comparison: link1, link2).
If the mission is to make the most money, there is an ironclad rule:
“live action is better than the animation”, animation is doomed to the
second kind of “mediocrity”, it is still too challenging for a lot of
people. As with any area of life, class society will favor certain goals
and thus will reward certain skills over others. Purposely engaging
with art with the same logic only ends up validating mediocrity,
ironically in the name of escaping it.
Still, there is a clear difference between true art and
trash, a fine dinner and fast food, unique and generic, touching and
fleeting. By through rigorous study of classics we can cultivate a good
taste to seperate wheat from the chaff, truly great works still have a
brilliance which puts them above all others, and this is identifiable in
even if we are not able to give exact formula for the beauty.
Reducing art to certain metrics of competency does reduce its meaning
in another way, because whatever human mind produces, nature does it
better, as former also is a product of other. [3] A real tree is more
detailed, more lively, more vivid than a drawing; and it’s something you
can touch and smell. Real people are infinitely more complex than the
best written characters, they have an existence outside of limited words
in a paper. An action VR game has the comfort to be away from actual
danger, but it can’t ever give the thrill one’s whole body feels on a
rollercoster. The director who knows how to make their audience cry is
an amateur compared to a doze of the right hormone. Should art be tasked
to hold a candle to the shadows of societies when studying history,
sociology, anthropology directly enlighten us much better? Are little
nuggests of thought art provides can be a match for tomes of philosophy
and political theory? If art is primarily a show of brilliance, then it
is condemned to be a mere imitation of life.
But it isn’t. There is more to Bioshock Infinite than its
goals and achievements. When I listed of the things the game had gotten
right, there was a twist. You see, I actually enjoy the game quite a
bit, just not particularly for any of the reasons why it’s “competent”.
Even though most of the game doesn’t sit right with me, it is still
valuable as it is. It made me challenge and reevaluate my tastes, made
me think about how games do stuff, when it game the chance to slow down
and take a breath, it showed me how different it could be. Even though
I’d prefer Bioshock 2 in a reductive one-to-one comparison, I am glad Bioshock Infinite
is what it is. Works of art becomes what they are with its strong and
weak points together, just like people who create them. Every piece of
art carries the mark of a human: An amqteur drawing of a tree, a game
which routinely enter “worst 10 games of all time” lists, the music
perfonmance in the shower, the most stereotypical wish-fulfillment
fantasy fanfiction, a short film which solely exists to advertise
knock-off cellphones… They all bring something with them. This means
neither it is necessarily worth giving attention to just about anything
nor all art is equally valuable. There is certainly something that makes
certain art truly special above others: It’s the bonds we forge with
them.
It is hard to figure out what makes art great because these bonds are
undeniably personal. We can talk about traits, styles, genres people
commonly enjoy and draw certain rules about art from them: “Study real
people for characters”, “don’t let exposition break the pace”, “12 rules
of animation”, “emergent gameplay” etc. However such rules can only
describe some patterns of enjoyment, the process of forging bonds is
truly where art becomes magic; personalized, hard to define, impossible
to contain, creates a life on its own. This bond might be the homely
feeling when turning page of a book, the film which helped you in the
dark period of life, the song that witness your undying love, the show
which made you learn to draw solely for making fan art of your favourite
character, the game who practically taught you a foreign language.
What’s the most important masterpiece one will never watch compared to
the soap opera they are so passionate that they can be distracted from
their otherwise dull life? [4] The “cringe” fanfiction a teenager
regularly posts might be more magical to them than “the classic” they
are obligated to read and “appreciate.” No amount of professionalism and
mastery alone can create such bonds, it is only born during the
experience between person and the art, special for each person and that
‘person’ in the moment, for the creator and the audience alike. What’s
the point of calling someone’s taste’s “bad”, if they are happy about
enjoying something? Why a work of art being able to reach a person is a
bad thing? Or, why disliking a popular thing has to be about being edgy?
Why attempt to destroy the magic, especially when capitalism trying its
best to do so?
Just like magic, the true bonds between us and art are impossible to
be co-opted by the capitalism, so instead it replaced by a pale
imitation. Just as how commericalized magic is depersonalized, formulaic
and often expensive remains of what’s been destroyed long ago that
enables us to buy crumbles of spirituality, art is being stripped away
from the person to sell the crumbles of humanity back at them: Not only
property-holders are self-declared arbiters of how we access the art,
but also one’s entire relationship with it. The toxicity of fan
communities, fandom rivalries, the state of media criticism are not
bugs, they are features: A real gamer has the real gaming equipment and
only plays real games with other real gamers. A consumer making a choice
— often because they need to manage their money and time — means they
hate everything they left behind. Art elitists say they want to further
art, but how does exactly enforcing a true/false art dichotomy help
literally anything when it is already done so quite effectively? Once
again, why destroy the magic?
For me, the goal of art critique is not only examine our relationship
with it but also enhance it in a way. Whether by finding new angles for
appreciation, exploring our discomfort for a better understanding of
ourselves or simply finding catharsis by finding our feelings in words, a
great media analysis is able to strengthen our bonds or even creating
new ones! This isn’t to say that negative analysis is bad — far from it,
i have myself complained about fake positivity in the very last
article, (link) — however there is a
difference between being negative and destructive. A critique does not
need to attack the very concept of liking something, as if personal
enjoyment or dissatisfaction are harmful ideas that needs to be
debunked, a art is a battle to win or lose and making a critique is an
arena to prove one’s mettle. They don’t have to be “nuanced”, “fair” or
“neutral” — I, myself, very much prefer criticism that comes from the
heart — but they shouldn’t further the masterpiece/atrocity dichotomy.
There is more to say about a work than being a 10/10 gifts of the gods
or THE WORST THING EVER. A critique may contain many mistakes; it might
be dishonest about the subject material, go into too much hyperbole,
unable to support it’s points well and so on, but the worst thing it can
do is make the audience leave with less emotions and thoughts instead
of more, to contribute to render expressing sincere love and hate for
something passe, and to succeed in breaking personal bonds between the
person and art.
Now, it’s time to embrace my own biases: It’s quite hard for me to
carry strong negative opinions about art. At worst, I find something
mildly dull or unapproachable, but even then most art is at least
conceptually interesting to me, even if it’s not just interesting enough
to experience in full. This doesn’t mean I don’t empathize with
cathartic hatred nor claim any sense of superiorty in my view, but it’s a
feeling I rarely foster towards art. It’s very likely that this feeling
is what makes me so averse to the any notion of standards, masterpieces
and atrocities in arts. It follows from here that for me, “good art” is
the one I enjoy to experience. My ode to the Room in the
beginning isn’t an mere attempt to be a contrarian, it is able to
connect to me so I don’t find any value in disregarding as a failure. If
pre-assumed notions of quality is useless to explain my feelings, then I
find them useless. However, even outside of my bias coming from being a
complete nerd, my stance still has a merit, because I have truly never
seen any application of de-personalization that did not end up in
shaming people out of enjoying art or push them to conformity. Thus, I
say that if you also feel a need to hierarchize your experiences, you
should say “no” to the tyranny of the masterpiece.
Even so, you must still have some conception of art being
plainly terrible. Clearly, certain works deserve condemnation, not
praise.
No, I am very firm about the uselessness of objectivity in art, this
should be clear. However, I do think we can have some objective
standards for media. If we accept media as the instrument for
art and should exist for the benefit of the audience and their creators
then we can set such goals to media:
First, we should be able to access and decipher the contents. A
falsely printed comic, a broken software and a story behind the paywall
are all terrible. As discussed, media certainly can create new
understandings for art but if there is no understanding, then we can
safely call the media a failure.
Second, it shouldn’t create patterns of harm: Causing seizures,
triggered trauma due to untelegraphed inclusion of sensitive topics,
setups for addiction, verifiable spread of misinformation or hate speech
are examples of such. This extends to the creators too. No media is
worth destroying their creators in the process.
Third, media should not be a tool of validation for actively
terrible people, even if their creation is just about cute puppies. The
world has enough people who aren’t abusers or fascists that suspending
their validation by the society won’t be the end of art.
It might seem there is a contradiction in my rhetoric, but if we hold
art as something dynamically exists between the media and the person,
it all makes sense. As an example, let’s compare a novel that presents
reactionary ideas and Adolf Hitler’s paintings. One can read the former
and can make a multitude of interpretations: The text might be in
support of the reactionary ideas, deconstruct them, contain
contradictory or unrelated themes, be worth experiencing due to it’s
other qualities and so on. It’s usually not a good idea to morally judge
its readers based on a single interpretation,relationship between art
and the person is complex, but we can learn something about the readers
based on their opinions, for example the way they frame the story’s
depiction of abuse. Even so, definitely there is a dynamic being we can
hate, love, be critical or bored of, but it’s quite tough to call the
book bad without a clear pattern of harm.
Hitler’s paintings are the opposite. For someone who has never heard
of Hitler, they would be just unassuming normal drawings they might like
and dislike; but for everyone else the paintings’ existence is
completely overshadowed by their creator for good reason. There is no
connection with what paintings are, they only exist as painted blocks of
a Nazi, they are media without art. So, if someone expresses adoration
for the paintings, it’s quite fair to be suspicious, did the truly get
past the whole Adolf part so easily? As the answer is quite literally
concerns our safety, even if someone was really giant art-lover, we can
be sure about calling those paintings objectively bad media.
In the same vein, a lot of art we like exist within objectively bad
media, this is a fact we are facing as more and more stories worker
abuse and despicable creators come to light. Something that might be
beloved in the past might be now empty. Without ‘the person’, there is
no art, when connection is severed, the work of art as previously known
is no more. Just as often however, people still embrace the art despite
the media. Yes, we shouldn’t “let people enjoy” just about anything, and
we should be conscious about our financial support, but the problems of
the media is greater than individual creators. Most media is bad,
because society which creates them is bad, but just as we can find good
people in the bad society, we can find good art in bad media. This fact
just adds another good reason against the tyranny of the masterpiece: No
art is so bad that it is nothing but an artifact of the society, but
also never so good that it can escape the society.
Then, what would a post-masterpiece society look like? It would
certainly would be a post-capitalist one. People bringing the trash out
from the depths their hearts with no care any rules or taboos, no worry
of any approval, no desire of greatness. Imagine modding communities,
art posting sites, blogs dedicated to extremely niche tastes but without
limitation of the capital. Weird, plain, beautiful, ugly, inspiring,
gross… Just their creation, unfiltered, probably unpolished, open to
anyone interested. Or only for their in-group, or just themselves.
Either way, all the chains between art and person is broken. A beautiful
chaos of trash manifests after complete ruin of “artistic standards”,
as there is no one to enforce them left. For now however, they still
haunt us and will do so for quite a while. Until then, we can at least
reject their authority with completely embracing our bonds with art.
Please create and enjoy “so bad it’s good”, “cursed”, “fun trash”,
“happy accident”, “problematic fave” art, don’t hesitate being
contrarian, no more “guilty pleasures”, let all of your love be genuine! This article is written thanks to my dearest Patrons and special thanks to: Acelin, Alexandra Morgan, Laura Watson, MasterofCubes, Makkovar, Otakundead and Spencer Gill.
[1] I am not implying any kind of specialness of “humanity” here, if
there were other species who are creative enough for art, art would also
mirror them too.
[2] The quote includes a part about judging genres, that’s a whole another beast I won’t attempt to tackle here.
[3] Hopefully it is clear enough in the paragraph, but I don’t argue
in favor a nature/human dichotomy. “Nature” itself is a heavily loaded
word, here it just has a meaning of “systems in universe which humans
observe, interact and are part of.”
[4] I am not setting up a false dichotomy of “genuine” vs
“pretentious” art here. A person can be just as easily bonded to an
arthouse movie or surrealist painting, it’s precisely the existence of
such bonds render hierarchies of “artistic value” worthless.
“Art is subjective.” is a self-explanatory statement.
Something that exists to communicate and receive feedback from the
audience, even if said audience only consists of the creator themselves
obviously is dependent on the subject and not a problem which can be
broken down and solved. It is just like saying. “Can opener opens cans.”
No one disagrees with this in practice, otherwise we could not simply create or enjoy art. However, in theory, this
is contested in the belief that art must be subjugated by an authority.
Most people would not accept a censorship bureau, but rather; a
subtler, more abstract type of authority.
The first important authority is the perceived general
audience. Thinking their own biases, tastes, emotions are simply
superior and universal, and the worthiest of consideration. There are
certain reasons why such a thought might develop:
They are exposed to a media which regularly caters to them, to the
exclusion of most anything else. There isn’t much need for subjectivity
when one can stay in a bubble.
Popularity, high rankings, critical acclaim, sales numbers etc.
Certainly there are common patterns in media, and some art have more
appeal to higher number of people. There is nothing that proves
universality here, and even if there was an art which was truly
universally appealing, that would not diminish its subjectivity.
Something less appealing but different would not be entirely less
valuable, because it would come out from a different human being.
Rarity, is perhaps even more effective. After all. only the truly
worthy can experience true art, for true causes, not to satisfy the
simple whims of a mere commoner, right? We decided this work is
“cringe”, no one can sincerely enjoy it anymore. Also, popular things
grow their fandom. Fandoms are bad, and everyone should feel bad about a
work by mere association to a fandom.
The worst of all, the politicization of aesthetics. Here, merely
consuming art becomes an ideological battle, and thus there is hardly
any room for plurality. Unsurprisingly, this enables rather reactionary
ideologies.
The second authority is positivist art criticism. The words
“subjective” and “objective” are often used in a loaded way, as extreme
opposite ends. It posits that something is either entirely personal and
impossible to articulate or must be able to be solved like a math
question. It’s a fairly common opinion that humor and music is “too
subjective” to be analyzed, but something such as game design is often
treated as definitive. As said before, subjectivity does not imply
absolute uniqueness. When creating art, an objective goal can be used in
creating different experiences, such as certain filming techniques. Art
can be analyzed in different ways, and certain analyses aren’t more
authoritative because they refer to more certain, calculable properties.
The very process of deciding which observations about a work of art is
personal. Just as there is no finality in art, there is no final word in
art critique and that doesn’t make any certain interpretation less
valuable. Something can be personal and still be shared collectively.
The third important authority is the creator themselves, they are “authors” after all. The concept of Death of the Author
is applied always knowingly or unknowingly at a certain level, as it is
simply a corollary to the subjectivity of art. Limitations of that
concept is being argued still today, but in the process of experiencing
art, one is only concerned with visuals and sounds right there, the
creator only exists in the art at that moment; this is not something
contested. However, people still feel obliged to let their personal
experience of art dictated by the creator for various reasons.
“Canon” is supposed to supersede and control all interpretations.
The story is reduced to a mere series of events, replacing any cultural
context or personal connection with perceived approval from the author
as the one and only legitimate source of validation. In particular, it’s
often used to argue that a work is “not political” (i.e “not about
things I don’t want to be reminded of.”), and invalidate all queer
readings of a work.
“Target audience ” is a notable case of invoking both the author and
the audience. Here, even the very experience itself becomes under
scrutiny, as if enjoying things wrong is a social taboo. Of course, a
critic should admit when a work does not speak much to their tastes, but
that doesn’t make the criticism inherently worthless. This is a false
dichotomy between the contents of work and personal opinion. All
criticism that’s not written as marketing centers one’s personal taste,
it’s just that “the taste” is often more complicated than “I like this
work because it confirms to type of content, style etc. what I’ve
already found appealing before.”
When a creator turns out to be responsible for unethical things, it
might be difficult to engage in their work. The process of experiencing a
work entails separating art from the artist, but the art is a part of
the artist. So if one sees only a domestic abuser when they see a face,
they might not be able to see a fictional character in that face. That’s
one of more understandable reasons not to discard author as an
authority, but in many cases there is no reason to shame people who can
see past an author, that’s what supposed to happen. This goes other way
around too. A person with good intentions can make fiction with bad
implications. Trying to judge one’s entire personhood around their work
alone is not fruitful.
When discussing the cultural impact of a work, or its function as
something other than art, invoking the author might seem intuitive. It’s
quite possible to look at a creator and the creation process of a work,
and deduce their purposes. However even here, it is not actually
necessary. We can understand that something is Nazi propaganda without
even knowing anything about the author. A work of art is an alive being,
we can find out its place in greater cultural context just by
communicating it. The only thing to keep in mind is not to invalidate
personal connections. It’s entirely possible that a work can be harmful
in certain contexts while being valuable and in others.
As long as art remains a commodity, supporting works means elevating
their creators. As such, it is perfectly reasonable to not support
harmful works and creators, but the limits of individual choices should
be recognized. It is likely prudent not to commission drawings from that
child abuse fetishist, but worrying about whether a blockbuster movie
gets funded by the military doesn’t achieve much , the boycotts rarely
do anything for a reason.
It’s no coincidence that most arguments about invoking author,
audience, “rules of art” etc. seek to end the discussion. Establishing
an authority on becomes a very literal goal. “You can’t enjoy lesbians
in the show, because it is made for men.”, “This game is only a silly
meme, you can’t enjoy it sincerely”, “The thing you love sucks” and so
on. Of course, such an authority is not independent of existing power
structures. De-personalizing art is dangerous not only because it
stifles the discourse and collective treasure of ideas, but because it
only ends up to serve the existing oppressive relations. Striped of the
person, all remains to the viewer is to emulate other’s experiences. ”
AAA game industry is a very poignant example here. The studios freely
appropriate real life conflicts, struggles but absolutely refuse
that their games are making any political statements. They use
microtransations, premium access, timed content, and all kinds of
devious psychological manipulation
to goad players into certain behaviours. They discourage negative
reviews and critical presses. Often they are hostile to hacking and
emulation, instead offering their own restrictive services., also try to subjugate modding
at times. Even the simple idea of being able to play games offline is
seen as undesirable. Never mind not owning the game, the player is not
even allowed to own their experiences. Only what’s useful to capital is
valid.
When freed from the audience, author, and absolutist criticism, an
unrestricted, bountiful flow of exchange between the person and the work
starts. Indeed, it is not one way at all. A game will be completely
different to a first-timer, a veteran of a genre, a beta-tester, a
writer who plays it for reviews, a person who revisits it a decade
later. As the viewer looks at the work and the work reflects back at
them. Art can tell a lot about its viewer, often more than it tells
about its creator. Less in a collective sense, and more in a personal
way. Trans people usually read gender-fluidity in a work differently
than cis people. Nostalgia is mis-applied in criticism quite often — and
oh do I have problems about it — but it’s not a lesser feeling to have
towards art. The cozy language here might be misleading, but personal
connection is actually neutral phrase. It doesn’t have to be positive,
nor healthy. No matter how masterfully a writer deconstructs it, some
will always side with tyrants in a story. No matter how blatant it is,
some will defiantly deny any queerness in a work. Nevertheless, it’s all
about this connection, not the series of letters, pixels or sounds. A
major part of creator’s challenge is to make what they want to say a
part of the connection between the viewer and the work, but they can
never have the last word.
De-personalizing art make it less worthwhile for all. No one should
feel inferior because their love of work is not seemingly based on
objective qualities, all qualities we seek derive from the personal.
Overly concerning about whether a work is problematic or not does not
much else besides punishing oneself. Yes, even when a work is terrible
in from one perspective, from another interpretation it can be
wonderful, they can co-exist even for the same person. We can and should
be critical and still cherish our connections to art. Which creators we
need to support financially and uplift their vices brings a valid
ethical angle, but it’s important to remember in most cases that’s
something beyond what individuals alone can impact. Do the same to ideas
too. “Steal” the ideas of thinkers, writers you like and leave the
rest. Representation matters, but it’s not more important than your
experiences. Interpreting art is re-creating it in one’s own image,
fully embrace it! Only art that successfully lives inside people can
impact society.
This is why “death of the author” is so important to me. It’s not
merely about ignoring author’s post-publish output, it is liberating art
from the tyranny that turns the viewer and the creator into laborers
who are coerced to produce the existing systems in art again and again,
for the wage of a small window of human feelings. The only way to resist
this is to make art ourselves. I call this stance “dethronement of all
authors”. Unlike death of the author, it is more interested in all
meta-authors of work rather than author’s brand, and implies a more
deliberate rejection of de-personalization imposed upon us.
This article mostly talks about in abstract terms, because it is an
introduction to a series where I examine various topics concerning
de-personalization. And I will focus on video games, because I see a
lack of discussion of this kind on that area, but games not only bring
whole new dimensions to this subject, but it constantly generates such
discourse that… oh my Madoka the discourse!… This article is written thanks to my dearest Patrons and special thanks to: Acelin, Alexandra Morgan, Emelina, Laura Watson, MasterofCubes, Makkovar, Otakundead and Spencer Gill.