Critical Thought - a critical look For our launch day, we asked Ed Brubaker if he'd consider writing a guest column for us, and he graciously agreed. With any luck, you'll be seeing more rotating columns from other comic pros as the site continues to grow, and of course we'd love to have Ed back for another installment as well. By Ed Brubaker Paraphrasing (or possibly directly quoting) Ernest Hemingway (an author whom this writer in particular never really cared for) we can come to the quick conclusion that "Critics are the scum of the earth." And this statement came from a writer who had a career as a journalist before he became a novelist, so he must have had plenty of close contact with the critical arm of the world. In fact, critical readings of his most famous short novel, The Old Man and the Sea (a dreadful book), often posit the theory that the sharks eating the Old Man's prize catch before he can get it back to shore are symbolic of the critics attacking Hemingway's previous novel. Of course, Hemingway didn't actually believe in symbolism, but that's kind of the whole point of critical readings, anyway, isn't it? Intentional symbolism is artificial, while symbolism only noticed later by critics is art. Which brings us back to Hemingway's original point, that critics are the scum of the earth. And who could argue with it, really? I mean, most of these "people" are self-important snobs who think every work of art or entertainment was created solely for the purpose of having them pass judgment on it. It's simply nauseating to listen to them go on and on about the influences of some writer, cartoonist or filmmaker, capping it off with how some obscure foreign nutcase was a much more original artist (as if originality was a concept that wasn't open to debate). During my career in both comics and publishing, I've encountered plenty of these types (though probably not nearly so many as Hemingway) and they always reminded me of some kind of hipper-than-thou clique, trying to stay on the cusp of some invisible wave of pop culture. Which, the older I get, seems more and more ridiculous, like balding men clinging to their hair. But this scum was at least an educated scum, in a lot of ways. Their opinions (and god knows they had plenty of those) were well-considered (if not stolen outright from other more critical thinkers) and based on a wide range of knowledge, and frequently, an in-depth study of the work in question. It wasn't hard to imagine the smug smiles on the faces of the critics as they wrote with passion about somebody else's art. They'd show everyone now, they were a lot smarter than they looked all those years when they couldn't get laid. (And I'm still waiting to hear about the girl who's hot for critics anyway - unless they can get her into the movies for free). This was the common variety of critic found throughout most of twentieth century and in truth, a less enjoyable lot you'd be hard-pressed to find. But then there came the Internet, and with it, a whole new breed of critic -- the "online critic." In the fetal stages, the online critic was nothing more than some guy (or girl) on Usenet telling everyone else (approx. 50 people) what comics he got that week, and once in a while rating them. No real thought, critical or otherwise, could generally be detected from these "postings." Most comics were rated on a scale of 1 to 10, generally scoring 9s or 10s on average, because the critic had such low expectations that nearly everything published met them. There were of course the occasional diatribes - "Why Peter David is god!" or "Why Peter David should be fired!" But still, these writers were able to get an inkling of the power the critic feels - they had opinions, and other people were reading them. They counted. Thus, some of them had the impudence to start web pages and begin parading around like they were legitimate journalists deserving of monetary remuneration for their opinions. Let us ponder that for a moment. There are people sitting in their bedrooms tapping away at keyboards in the middle of the night while eating cold pizza, and they think they should be paid for their opinions. This might be understandable if their opinions were revolutionary, or if they were perhaps funny (though I have found few critics with any semblance of a sense of humor), but the simple fact is, they are just people with opinions, and that's what the entire world is filled with. Which brings us back to Hemingway, doesn't it? Because in a world filled with people fully willing to dispense their opinions at the drop of a hat, those who actually have the audacity to seek payment for such must indeed be the scum of the earth. Right up there next to the 20-year-old who learns four chords on an electric guitar and thinks he should be onstage, getting a percentage of the door. Thankfully, the doors on the Internet began to slam shut after only a few years, not unlike a goldmine imploding. And where once you couldn't avoid comic review sites, now they have become a rare breed. Which brings us to the crux of our essay, do we, as a culture, really need critical thought? While this writer may enjoy reading reviews, he is often given to pondering the point behind them, especially considering that within the comics industry no amount of good reviews seem to be able to attract readers to a book. In film and book publishing, good reviews are proven to help increase revenue and raise awareness of the material reviewed, thus the minor evil of the critic is not only tolerated, but necessary. Yet, in comics, that is simply not the case. But, whose fault is that? Certainly, years of dashed off capsule reviews rating nearly everything published by the mainstream as above average (when that was clearly not the case), has damaged the cause of the critic, but that should not take away from the carefully thought out and honestly expressed opinions of those who have survived the purge. The rare breed needs to become a necessary evil. Or there is no point. And the only people who can make that happen is you, all of you. So, that is my point, if we are to tolerate critical thought in this industry, and clearly it is here to stay, then let's start paying attention to it once in a while, too. When one of these rare survivors spits out a condemnation of some super-hero trash that you've been addicted to purchasing but not really enjoying for years, and you agree with his opinion, stop purchasing this comic and buy something that he recommends. If you are going to allow critics into your life, then learn to read their tastes, and learn to listen to them. You know you always liked the movies that Ebert liked but Siskel hated, but that if they both liked it, it would be worthless. Learn your comics reviews like that, and make them matter, otherwise they are just words onscreen. And worse than that, they are opinions. Personally, I consider Randy and Don to be far from scum, regardless of their appearance as critics, and I enjoy reading their opinions whether I agree or not. But the simple fact is, they are still here. After the firebombing of Psycomic.com, and the complete nuclear disaster of Fandom.com, they are still standing (sort of like the Hulk, after they finally fired Peter David's ass). So, give them a little respect; they're critics, and that's not always easy. Ed Brubaker is a cartoonist and writer who spent a few years as a film critic for The Stranger in Seattle, so his opinions should be completely disregarded, because he is obviously scum. Also, he has never read a comic by Peter David and apologizes for allowing him to enter this essay, no harm was intended, he just couldn't find a way to make fun of Bendis instead. Check out his website www.edbrubaker.com for a listing of his current works and samples of works in progress.