John Updike on the safety of criticism

From "Hugging the Shore: Essays and Criticism," winner of the 1984 National Book Critics Circle Award for Criticism

"The world craves book reviews far more heartily than it craves books: therein lies the beguilement and the nagging unease of the trade. Unlike the poet and the teller of tales, the reviewer writes by invitation, in near-certainty of his product's being paid for and printed. He is safe, too, in his tone, which merely has to preserve the grammatical forms and a semblance of sagacity to win his audience to him, in satisfying collusion against the clumsiness, deludedness, and conceit of the book writer. Critical prose, like the prose of business letters, has its set locutions and inevitable rhythms, which begin to wear a drone into even the user's head. One misses, hugging the shore, the halting mimetic prose of fiction, which seeks to sink itself in the mind of a character or the texture of a moment. What we love about fiction writers is their willingness to dare this submergence, to give up, in behalf of brute reality, the voice of a wise and presentable man. The critic comes to us in a suit and tie. He is a gentleman. He is right. A pox on him, as Goethe said. Among the many pieces of paper I sifted to make this collection I came across the following note, evidently addressed, so sternly, to myself:

An artist mediates between the world and mind; a critic merely between
minds. An artist therefore must even at the price of uncouthness
and alienation from the contemporary cultural scene maintain alle-
giance to the world and a fervent relation to it.

A fervent relation with the world: I suppose this is my critical touchtone, with its old-fashioned savor of reverence and Creation and the truth shall make you free."

**