Four years ago, before she won an Emmy, Ayo Edibiri went on a podcast and described Jennifer Lopez’s musical career as ‘one long scam’, and insisted not only that multi-hyphenate performer ‘can’t sing’ but that she doesn’t sing on most of her tracks. Lo and behold, last month Edibiri found herself in an awkward situation after she was invited to host Saturday Night Live alongside special musical guest … Jennifer Lopez. Edibiri was reportedly mortified when her comments about JLo’s (in)abilities started to circulate widely ahead of their scheduled appearance together. She apologised to JLo ‘with tears in her eyes’ and proceeded to poke fun at herself in a skit entitled ‘Why’d you say it’?
Fellow comedian Tina Fey discussed the fallout of Ayo’s comments on Las Culturistas podcast, warning Bowen Yang (also of SNL fame) that he is already too famous to give his actual opinions about movies. ‘Are you having a problem with Saltburn? Quiet Luxury. Keep it to yourself … Because what are you going to do when [Saltburn director] Emerald Fennell calls you about her next project where you play Carey Mulligan’s coworker in the bridal section of Harrods, and then Act 3 takes a sexually violent turn, and you have to pretend to be surprised by that turn?… Learn from my mistakes, learn from Ayo. Podcasts are forever. Authenticity is dangerous and expensive.’
So this is a funny little story, right? Funny because Ayo’s criticism of JLo is largely spot on. But I think it speaks to some of the unspoken rules that many people working in the arts today unquestionably abide by. Notably, that it’s not good form to openly criticise other artists work, unless you are willing to deal with the ‘dangerous and expensive’ consequences that Fey alludes to.
Let’s turn to the other side of the Atlantic. In a recent London Standard article on the continuing marginalisation of black writers within the publishing industry, the writer Derek Owusu observed a sense of unspoken competitiveness that he feels affects writers. ‘Black British writers will lie and act like there is no competition and just love each other, but that’s just nonsense. There’s cliques everywhere.’ He highlighted the way in which Afua Hirsch wrote a ‘takedown’ of Kehinde Andrews’ book The Psychosis of Whiteness, and argued that it ‘hurt his book. Like, why are you doing that?’
I think these two examples encapsulate some of the issues which plague cultural criticism in the 2020s and which contribute to it being an intellectually dishonest environment. As Fey points out, there is often a material and social cost to those in the industry who offer judgements on films or books. Say, for example, that you are a debut novelist who has been asked by The Guardian to write a review of a novel by a popular podcaster. You dislike the novel, and think it has a baggy middle, but are aware that the success of your own book may ride or die on being invited on that (enormously influential) podcast. Do you write a scathing takedown? Tell the editor about the conflict of interest? Or do you play it safe, and write a bland ‘good vibes’ review? How honest can you afford to be?
I applaud Hirsch for voicing her reservations about Andrews’ book. I think the points she made about his lack of respect for black women were valid and backed up well. (‘At one point Andrews says he would prefer people to “don KKK hoods and burn a cross on my lawn” than listen to a well-respected black woman’s work on educating white people.’) Hirsch argues that such retorts are an ‘odd way to model black solidarity’.
It would have been far easier for Hirsch to look the other way, especially as she and Andrews were scheduled to do several events together in the following weeks. The fact that she was willing to put herself in an arguably quite uncomfortable scenario makes me trust her more as a critic. ‘Why are you doing that?’ asks Owusu. Because it’s her job, I might reply.
But Owusu is right to some extent. Cliques do dominate the arts world, and from a publishers perspective, there’s often a clear correlation between who an author is friends with and the opportunities that will emerge for them during a publicity cycle. From where I’m standing, the people who are most effective at harnessing the cultural capital of their social network are white upper-middle class women. The likes of Pandora Sykes and Elizabeth Day understand the power of their social network when it comes to promoting their books, and are relentless at using other media to entrench and reinforce their cultural influence. Viewed in this way, Owusu’s confusion at why Hirsch wouldn’t simply give Andrews’ book a supportive review makes sense. Aren’t we in this together? He’s saying - cause that’s what the white women do!
I guess there is a broader question here about what constitutes ‘literary’ or cultural criticism today. Traditionally, literary criticism has been an area of writing found in broadsheets and dedicated literary supplements, like the TLS, LRB, NYRB. These outlets remain (for the most part) rigorous in their review practices, often commissioning writers who have academic qualifications related to the material they are reviewing, and ideally doing some leg work to ensure that there aren’t glaring conflicts of interest.
But literary culture and criticism is no longer confined to these hallowed pages. And in a media landscape dominated by multifarious forms of content (video, podcast, even email-based newsletters…) the ability of the general public to discern between Literary Criticism on the one hand and writing or content about books on the other, is diminished. The practice of giving ‘blurbs’ on books doesn’t help. Sure, publishers will include favourable quotes from traditional outlets on a book jacket, but if your author is friends with someone who has name recognition, then that blurb will often get ditched or downgraded in the pecking order. Does the public understand this? Or even care about the difference? I doubt it. ‘Advertising and the culture industry merge technically as well as economically’ argued the cultural theorist Theodor Adorno.
That’s not to say that new media isn’t producing excellent critics on a whole host of topics. Take Luke Meagher, a fashion critic who fronts ‘Haute Le Mode’ a Youtube channel which makes the fashion industry ‘digestible and understandable for the average person’. His runway critiques actually consider clothing designs within a socio-cultural analytic framework, offering thoughtful appraisals of designers and explaining why a look does or doesn’t ‘work’. The flip side to this might be Booktok, where content creators post short videos pegged to trends that are designed to increase engagement. Arguably these clips are so short that they don’t have space for nuanced engagement and critique.
So what! I hear you cry. What’s so bad about being nice about things? Would the world really be so bad if we were just mildly positive about everything? Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer didn’t think so. In the wake of the Holocaust, Adorno developed the concept of Standardisation to explain some of the problems inherent in the culture industries, arguing that the increasing commodification and homogenisation of culture means that entertainment has come to have a greater importance than critical thought. Culture has become a business which values mass appeal over aesthetics.
We consumers think we are reading ‘criticism’ but more often than not, what passes for criticism is actually ‘entertainment’ which gives us the false illusion that we are making free choices based on objective information. Perhaps this is why genuine critiques are so shocking to us and are deemed to be a social faux-pas. Because the good-vibes review has become the status quo, and anything which deviates from this formula is notable for its audaciousness in a cultural landscape ruled by mediocrity and repetitiveness.
This damages our society in a number of ways. It damages our cultural aesthetics, in that it reproduces forms of culture which are more linked to ‘entertaining us’ than illuminating the complex facets of our world. When we are conditioned to believe that JLo is a good singer, for example, it also contributes to the distortion of reality, in which our critical faculties become stunted through constant repetition and exposure.
Politicians also observe this phenomena and understand that entertainment is more powerful than accuracy and objectivity. We elect politicians like Boris Johnson, a student and producer of the culture industry, who deploys repetitive slogans like ‘Take Back Control’ and cavorts rounds on a JCB digger to grab the public’s attention and marginalise voices of critique or dissent. Politics itself becomes yet another domain of the culture industry, in which the lowest common denominator is able to ascend to the highest echelons of public life. One only needs to look at the career of Jeremy Corbyn to understand the danger of being an ‘authentic’ politician. Arguably, he was not able to survive his attempt to join the mainstream, and was duly cast out by those who were deemed more media-friendly and entertaining.
This week Arts Council England revised its funding guidelines, indicating that ‘political statements’ could break funding agreements. ‘Activity that might be considered overtly political and activist and goes beyond your company’s core purpose and partnerships with organisations that might be perceived as being in conflict with the purposes of public funding of culture.’ In essence, this is a warning to artists not to dissent against the government. Don’t draw attention to injustice or inequality in a way that might embarrass the political leadership. Just make your little artworks which entertain us without making us feel uncomfortable about our actions, thank you very much.
Authenticity is dangerous and expensive, my friends! And is becoming more so by the day. Let’s push back against the increasing industrialisation of our arts landscape and demand more from our cultural publications, publishers and institutions. More nuanced criticism, greater independence and ultimately, better art - because being honest about art is good for all of us.
RECOMMENDATION CORNER
Phew. That was a long one. Thanks for making it to the end. I’d love to know about critics who your trust and go to regularly for thoughtful and nuanced criticism. Here are some of mine:
FASHION: Luke Meagher of Haute Le Mode. Meagher puts Vogue et al to shame with his incisive and well argued criticism of new fashion collections. I’ve learned so much about fashion history from his videos. Strongly recommend.
LITERATURE: Merve Emre has just launched a brilliant new podcast called ‘The Critic and her Publics’ where she interviews a critic and invites them to perform criticism on the spot. The first episode with Andrea Long Chu was excellent.
ART: For art criticism, I don’t think you can beat Jerry Saltz at New York Magazine. A while back he had some interesting things to say about Substack, who offered him lots of money to leave his column there.
"The practice of giving ‘blurbs’ on books doesn’t help. Sure, publishers will include favourable quotes from traditional outlets on a book jacket, but if your author is friends with someone who has name recognition, then that blurb will often get ditched or downgraded in the pecking order. " THIS! I've always been puzzled by how cluttered UK book covers are with tons of useless one-liners that often are distracting and don't add anything to why someone should read a book. For me the effect is the opposite, actually, as I may ban a book that I thought was interesting if I see an author I don't like is saying it's "necessary and compulsory reading". Why? The UK is perhaps the only country where I see this practice on books (fiction and non-fiction) and it's obviously aimed at guiding potential readers towards works in an Amazon-style fashion (other writers you may like have said this about this book). Personally, I find it's very detrimental and biased as there's little space for honest critique and reviews and like you rightly point out, it puts potential reviewers on the spot and forces them to say something positive for fear of not being offered future promotional opportunities for their own work. The ideal scenario would be to let the reader judge for themselves and get rid of blurbs altogether. Besides, they totally ruin any art on the cover. Some independent publishers like Fiztcarraldo or Daunt Books, and I believe Pushkin Press as well, are doing a great job in that regard and letting the quality of the books speak for themselves. And then, if in doubt, one can always read a proper review, not another vague "his/her best work yet"
I feel this in a lot of ways. I’m a critical person and I want to be able to criticize art, even art I love but I know that might have consequences. People have always taken this sort of thing personally. But I also have a lot of disdain for people who declare that someone whom thousands or millions of people like to listen to “can’t sing.” Like, she’s doing something with her voice to music that people like - what do you want to call that if not singing? I mean I don’t care, I’m happy to use another word. If you hold the minority opinion that only long notes and a big vocal range are interesting to listen to that’s fine - but when you say that Taylor Swift can’t sing I just think that you’re stupid and unpleasantly arrogant. I don’t like high notes - so I don’t like most violin music or sopranos in opera etc. but I don’t try to declare it’s not music or not good just because it makes me want to clap my hands over my ears.