Study Edition · Essay 71
The True Critic
Source: From “The Critic as Artist,” Part II, a dialogue in Intentions (1891). Text from Project Gutenberg #887. This is the passage on “the qualities that should characterise the true critic”; a few sentences are omitted and marked “…”. Archaic verb forms modernized; vocabulary kept and glossed.
Oscar Wilde, the Irish wit, playwright and author of The Picture of Dorian Gray, liked to turn common sense upside down. “The Critic as Artist” is a dialogue between two friends in a London library: Ernest, who holds ordinary opinions, and Gilbert, who speaks for Wilde. Here Ernest suggests that a good critic should be fair, rational and sincere, and Gilbert demolishes each suggestion with a paradox. Notice the epigrams (short, witty, quotable sayings), the way Gilbert reverses each expected idea, and his scorn for moralizing journalists.
58 sentences: 31 simple, 19 moderate, 8 complex. Hover a number for its paraphrase; click it for the full note.
Key Vocabulary
- characteriseto be typical of; to describe the nature of
- unbiassedfair; not favouring either side
- dogmaa belief laid down by authority as certainly true
- prejudicean opinion formed without reason
- impartiallyfairly, without favouring one side
- rationalbased on reason and logic
- visionarya dreamer with impractical ideas
- stereotypedfixed and conventional
- ethicsmoral principles
- Puritana person with strict, joyless moral views
- pruriencean unhealthy interest in sexual matters
- requisitenecessary
- stultifyto make oneself look foolish
- sordiddirty; morally low
- avidityeagerness; greed
- prosaicdull; ordinary
- temperamenta person's emotional nature
- susceptibleeasily affected or influenced
The Essay
Ernest. Well, now that you have settled that the critic has at his disposal all objective forms, I wish you would tell me what are the qualities that should characterise the true critic.1 Gilbert. What would you say they were?2 Ernest. Well, I should say that a critic should above all things be fair.3
Gilbert. Ah! not fair.4 A critic cannot be fair in the ordinary sense of the word.5 It is only about things that do not interest one that one can give a really unbiassed opinion, which is no doubt the reason why an unbiassed opinion is always absolutely valueless.6 The man who sees both sides of a question, is a man who sees absolutely nothing at all.7 Art is a passion, and, in matters of art, Thought is inevitably coloured by emotion, and so is fluid rather than fixed, and, depending upon fine moods and exquisite moments, cannot be narrowed into the rigidity of a scientific formula or a theological dogma.8 It is to the soul that Art speaks, and the soul may be made the prisoner of the mind as well as of the body.9 One should, of course, have no prejudices; but, as a great Frenchman remarked a hundred years ago, it is one’s business in such matters to have preferences, and when one has preferences one ceases to be fair.10 It is only an auctioneer who can equally and impartially admire all schools of Art.11 No; fairness is not one of the qualities of the true critic.12 It is not even a condition of criticism.13 Each form of Art with which we come in contact dominates us for the moment to the exclusion of every other form.14 We must surrender ourselves absolutely to the work in question, whatever it may be, if we wish to gain its secret.15 For the time, we must think of nothing else, can think of nothing else, indeed.16
Ernest. The true critic will be rational, at any rate, will he not?17
Gilbert. Rational?18 There are two ways of disliking art, Ernest.19 One is to dislike it. The other, to like it rationally.20 For Art, as Plato saw, and not without regret, creates in listener and spectator a form of divine madness.21 It does not spring from inspiration, but it makes others inspired.22 Reason is not the faculty to which it appeals.23 If one loves Art at all, one must love it beyond all other things in the world, and against such love, the reason, if one listened to it, would cry out.24 There is nothing sane about the worship of beauty.25 It is too splendid to be sane.26 Those of whose lives it forms the dominant note will always seem to the world to be pure visionaries.27
Ernest. Well, at least, the critic will be sincere.28
Gilbert. A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.29 The true critic will, indeed, always be sincere in his devotion to the principle of beauty, but he will seek for beauty in every age and in each school, and will never suffer himself to be limited to any settled custom of thought or stereotyped mode of looking at things.30 He will realise himself in many forms, and by a thousand different ways, and will ever be curious of new sensations and fresh points of view.31 Through constant change, and through constant change alone, he will find his true unity.32 He will not consent to be the slave of his own opinions.33 For what is mind but motion in the intellectual sphere?34 The essence of thought, as the essence of life, is growth.35 You must not be frightened by words, Ernest.36 What people call insincerity is simply a method by which we can multiply our personalities.37
Ernest. I am afraid I have not been fortunate in my suggestions.38
Gilbert. Of the three qualifications you mentioned, two, sincerity and fairness, were, if not actually moral, at least on the borderland of morals, and the first condition of criticism is that the critic should be able to recognise that the sphere of Art and the sphere of Ethics are absolutely distinct and separate.39 When they are confused, Chaos has come again.40 They are too often confused in England now, and though our modern Puritans cannot destroy a beautiful thing, yet, by means of their extraordinary prurience, they can almost taint beauty for a moment.41 It is chiefly, I regret to say, through journalism that such people find expression.42 I regret it because there is much to be said in favour of modern journalism.43 By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, it keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community.44 By carefully chronicling the current events of contemporary life, it shows us of what very little importance such events really are.45 By invariably discussing the unnecessary it makes us understand what things are requisite for culture, and what are not.46 But it should not allow poor Tartuffe to write articles upon modern art.47 When it does this it stultifies itself.48 … Science is out of the reach of morals, for her eyes are fixed upon eternal truths.49 Art is out of the reach of morals, for her eyes are fixed upon things beautiful and immortal and ever-changing.50 To morals belong the lower and less intellectual spheres.51 … For they give us the bald, sordid, disgusting facts of life.52 They chronicle, with degrading avidity, the sins of the second-rate, and with the conscientiousness of the illiterate give us accurate and prosaic details of the doings of people of absolutely no interest whatsoever.53 But the artist, who accepts the facts of life, and yet transforms them into shapes of beauty, and makes them vehicles of pity or of awe, and shows their colour-element, and their wonder, and their true ethical import also, and builds out of them a world more real than reality itself, and of loftier and more noble import—who shall set limits to him?54 The mere suggestion is ridiculous.55
… Ernest. And what are they?56 Tell me yourself.57
Gilbert. Temperament is the primary requisite for the critic—a temperament exquisitely susceptible to beauty, and to the various impressions that beauty gives us.58
Sentence Notes
In plain English: Ernest: Now that you've decided that a critic can use any form of writing, please tell me what qualities a real critic should have.
In plain English: Gilbert: What do you think they are?
In plain English: Ernest: Well, I'd say a critic should above all be fair.
In plain English: Gilbert: Oh no, not fair.
In plain English: A critic can't be fair in the usual meaning of the word.
In plain English: You can only give a truly neutral opinion about things that don't interest you, which is surely why a neutral opinion is always completely worthless.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A classic Wilde paradox: the virtue of fairness is turned into a sign of indifference.
In plain English: Someone who sees both sides of a question sees nothing at all.
In plain English: Art is a passion, and when we think about art, our thinking is always coloured by feeling; so it flows rather than staying fixed, and since it depends on delicate moods and special moments, it can't be squeezed into a rigid scientific formula or religious doctrine.
In plain English: Art speaks to the soul, and the soul can be imprisoned by the mind just as by the body.
In plain English: Of course you shouldn't have prejudices; but, as a great Frenchman said a century ago, in matters of art it's your job to have preferences, and once you have preferences you stop being fair.
Reference & context: The Frenchman has not been identified with certainty.
In plain English: Only an auctioneer can admire all styles of art equally and without favouring any.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: The auctioneer “admires” everything because he only wants to sell it.
In plain English: No, fairness is not one of a real critic's qualities.
In plain English: It isn't even necessary for criticism.
In plain English: Each work of art we meet takes us over completely for the moment, shutting out every other kind.
In plain English: We must give ourselves up completely to the work, whatever it is, if we want to discover its secret.
In plain English: While we do so, we must think of nothing else; in fact, we can think of nothing else.
In plain English: Ernest: But a real critic will at least be reasonable, won't he?
In plain English: Gilbert: Reasonable?
In plain English: There are two ways of disliking art, Ernest.
In plain English: One is to dislike it. The other is to like it in a calm, reasonable way.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A set-up and punchline: liking art “rationally” is just another way of not really liking it.
In plain English: Because art, as Plato saw (and regretted), produces a kind of divine madness in its audience.
Reference & context: In the Ion and the Phaedrus, Plato describes poetic inspiration as a god-sent madness; in the Republic he banishes poets from his ideal state.
In plain English: Art doesn't come from inspiration, but it inspires others.
Reference & context: Wilde believed art is made by conscious craft, not by mere inspiration.
In plain English: Art doesn't appeal to our reason.
In plain English: If you love art at all, you must love it more than anything else in the world, and your reason, if you listened to it, would protest against such love.
In plain English: There's nothing sane about worshipping beauty.
In plain English: It is too magnificent to be sane.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: Sanity is treated as a limitation, not a virtue.
In plain English: People whose lives are ruled by it will always look to others like impractical dreamers.
In plain English: Ernest: Well, the critic will at least be sincere.
In plain English: Gilbert: A little sincerity is dangerous, and a lot of it is deadly.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: Wilde borrows a famous proverb about criticism and turns it upside down.
Reference & context: Twists Alexander Pope's line “A little learning is a dangerous thing” (An Essay on Criticism, 1711).
In plain English: The real critic will always be sincerely devoted to beauty, but he will look for it in every period and every style, and will never let himself be tied to any fixed habit of thinking or conventional way of seeing.
In plain English: He will express himself in many forms and a thousand ways, and will always be curious about new feelings and fresh viewpoints.
In plain English: Only by constantly changing will he find his true wholeness.
In plain English: He won't agree to be a slave to his own opinions.
In plain English: Because what is the mind, except movement in the world of thought?
In plain English: The heart of thinking, like the heart of living, is growth.
In plain English: Don't be frightened by words, Ernest.
Reference & context: The Gutenberg text reads “by word”; corrected here to “words” as in other editions.
In plain English: What people call insincerity is just a way of multiplying our personalities.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: Insincerity, a vice, is redefined as a creative technique.
In plain English: Ernest: I'm afraid my suggestions haven't been very successful.
In plain English: Gilbert: Of the three qualities you suggested, two, sincerity and fairness, are close to being moral qualities, and the first requirement of criticism is that the critic should see that art and morality are completely separate worlds.
Reference & context: This was the creed of the Aesthetic Movement, “art for art's sake.” Wilde's preface to Dorian Gray (1891) says: “There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book.”
In plain English: When they get mixed up, chaos returns.
Reference & context: Echoes Othello III.iii: “and when I love thee not, / Chaos is come again.”
In plain English: They're too often confused in England today, and although our modern moralists can't destroy something beautiful, their strange, dirty-minded obsessions can almost spoil beauty for a moment.
Reference & context: Dorian Gray had been attacked by newspaper critics as immoral in 1890.
In plain English: I'm sorry to say that such people mainly express themselves through journalism.
In plain English: I'm sorry because there's a lot to be said for modern journalism.
In plain English: By printing the opinions of uneducated people, it keeps us informed about how ignorant society is.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: Mock praise that is really an insult.
In plain English: By carefully recording current events, it shows us how unimportant they really are.
In plain English: By always discussing unnecessary things, it helps us see what is and isn't necessary for culture.
In plain English: But it shouldn't let a hypocrite like Tartuffe write articles about modern art.
Reference & context: Tartuffe is the religious hypocrite in Molière's comedy (1664). Chadband, mentioned next, is a greasy preacher in Dickens's Bleak House.
In plain English: When it does that, it makes itself look foolish.
In plain English: Science is beyond the reach of morality, because it looks at eternal truths.
In plain English: Art is beyond the reach of morality, because it looks at things that are beautiful, immortal and always changing.
In plain English: Morality belongs to the lower, less intellectual areas of life.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A deliberately outrageous reversal of the Victorian ranking of morality above art.
In plain English: Because newspapers give us the bare, squalid, disgusting facts of life.
In plain English: They report, with shameful eagerness, the sins of second-rate people, and with the careful thoroughness of the uneducated they give us accurate, dull details about people who are of no interest at all.
In plain English: But the artist accepts the facts of life and transforms them into beautiful forms, uses them to stir pity or awe, shows their colour and wonder and their true moral meaning too, and builds from them a world more real than reality, and grander and nobler: who has the right to limit him?
Why this phrase is worth keeping: A long, climbing sentence that saves its question for the very end.
In plain English: The very idea is ridiculous.
In plain English: Ernest: And what are they?
Reference & context: A few sentences in which Gilbert dismisses the “mouthing Puritans” are omitted before this.
In plain English: Tell me yourself.
In plain English: Gilbert: The first thing a critic needs is the right temperament, one that is extremely sensitive to beauty and to the different impressions beauty makes on us.
Why this phrase is worth keeping: After rejecting fairness, reason and sincerity, Gilbert finally names the true qualification: sensitivity to beauty.
Fun Fact
Wilde gave his own epigrams to his characters so often that audiences started repeating them as proverbs. When he arrived in America in 1882, a customs officer reportedly asked if he had anything to declare, and he supposedly replied, “I have nothing to declare except my genius.” The story is famous, though no record from the time confirms it.