Turning the Lens Inward
No one likes to be criticized. Last week I took it upon myself to pick on my readers; never a very popular move. To be fair, if not exactly balanced, this week I victimize myself.
I am a critic by craft. I have a skewed world view that is always looking for flaws. Cynicism is probably an inevitable consequence, although I rejoice when I discover something, anything, up to my exacting standards. A pundit should adhere to a convention, even if it is a personal code, and his or her readers should be able to identify with those ideals. Above that, I and all who write about wine, should be entertaining.
Obviously, it is easier for me to extol my virtues, than turn an unbiased eye on myself. So then, here is my biased half hearted effort to scrutinize my own performance.
I suspect most people would say my greatest flaw of character, either in person, or in my writing is my arrogance. While I revel in what seems to me to be a sense of confidence, if my arrogance is turning off readers, it may be time for me to learn some humility. I wouldn't hold my breath of I were you.
Writing style is next up. I would love to be able to defend my style. It is after all, stylistic. I tend to write exactly as I speak. To me all the world is a narrative, waiting for my golden tongue. If you think I am effusive in writing, be thankful you don't have to sit through a dinner party with me.
I like to warn my readers away from dogma, hoping you will all learn to make up your own minds, and be confident enough to express your own opinions. For all that, I am a dogmatic fountain, spewing forth the rules of wine as I would have them.
Pedantic is a great word. Its very use describes the condition it describes, being overly literal. I warn the world away from the dangers of vague language, at the risk of stripping poetry from the language of wine. I am happiest when the words used actually describe specific chemicals or compounds found in wine. For all the joy it brings me, using the term diacetyl, over the term buttery, doesn't make me any easier to read.
Which brings me to hypocritical. Above all, I praise the power of communication. Getting your point across is the ultimate goal, no easy thing when describing something as subjective as wine. I shouldn't care what words you use, as long as the other person understands what you are trying to impart. I shouldn't care, but it turns out I do.
This has hardly been a grueling introspection. I am actually quite attached to the faults I listed, waving them about like a badge of honor. Many of these slights are common to all who critique, others I may not have a monopoly on, but I have honed them to a fine point.
So then, I invite you to add your own comments. Grade me, abuse me, or if all fails, praise me, but let me know what you think. Not only of my performance, but of reviewers in general.
I hate to be criticized, everyone does, but I invite it none the less, and who knows? Maybe I will learn something. Again, holding your breath can be hazardous to your health.
I am a critic by craft. I have a skewed world view that is always looking for flaws. Cynicism is probably an inevitable consequence, although I rejoice when I discover something, anything, up to my exacting standards. A pundit should adhere to a convention, even if it is a personal code, and his or her readers should be able to identify with those ideals. Above that, I and all who write about wine, should be entertaining.
Obviously, it is easier for me to extol my virtues, than turn an unbiased eye on myself. So then, here is my biased half hearted effort to scrutinize my own performance.
I suspect most people would say my greatest flaw of character, either in person, or in my writing is my arrogance. While I revel in what seems to me to be a sense of confidence, if my arrogance is turning off readers, it may be time for me to learn some humility. I wouldn't hold my breath of I were you.
Writing style is next up. I would love to be able to defend my style. It is after all, stylistic. I tend to write exactly as I speak. To me all the world is a narrative, waiting for my golden tongue. If you think I am effusive in writing, be thankful you don't have to sit through a dinner party with me.
I like to warn my readers away from dogma, hoping you will all learn to make up your own minds, and be confident enough to express your own opinions. For all that, I am a dogmatic fountain, spewing forth the rules of wine as I would have them.
Pedantic is a great word. Its very use describes the condition it describes, being overly literal. I warn the world away from the dangers of vague language, at the risk of stripping poetry from the language of wine. I am happiest when the words used actually describe specific chemicals or compounds found in wine. For all the joy it brings me, using the term diacetyl, over the term buttery, doesn't make me any easier to read.
Which brings me to hypocritical. Above all, I praise the power of communication. Getting your point across is the ultimate goal, no easy thing when describing something as subjective as wine. I shouldn't care what words you use, as long as the other person understands what you are trying to impart. I shouldn't care, but it turns out I do.
This has hardly been a grueling introspection. I am actually quite attached to the faults I listed, waving them about like a badge of honor. Many of these slights are common to all who critique, others I may not have a monopoly on, but I have honed them to a fine point.
So then, I invite you to add your own comments. Grade me, abuse me, or if all fails, praise me, but let me know what you think. Not only of my performance, but of reviewers in general.
I hate to be criticized, everyone does, but I invite it none the less, and who knows? Maybe I will learn something. Again, holding your breath can be hazardous to your health.
posted by Wineguy at 1:21 PM
3 Comments:
It takes a special kind of arrogance to brag about being arrogant. Maybe that is why you are so much fun to read.
What about tasting notes? You never write about actual wines.
"everyone hates being criticized"? Not true, constructive criticism is always welcome, encouraged and valued. That is the only way one grows and learns. Negative criticism only hurts and retards growth or conversation.
The one rule in wine or anything else in life, "If you think you know everything about it, you've only just started to learn"
"What about tasting notes? You never write about actual wines."
I save my tasting notes for the those lucky enough to have a subscription to my email newsletter.
The good news is that the subscription is free, and you can sign up for it by clicking here.
"constructive criticism is always welcome, encouraged and valued"
I too welcome constructive criticism, but even when it is handed out with the most gentle of touches, there are times it can hit a raw nerve.
Just because we don't like something doesn't make it any less important, that goes for negative criticism as well. There is often something to learn from any diatribe.
Post a Comment
<< Home