I suppose I should clarify that I think objectivity is effectively impossible. There might very well be some set of greater truths that we can’t comprehend — but that we can’t comprehend them renders them nonexistent, for all intents and purposes. I’m existential about it. My Plato is very rusty, so correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t “Phaedo” imply that whatever greater knowledge exists can only be obtained (or recalled) in death, and that all we humans can do is keep raising questions? That considered, I’m of the opinion that, insofar as art criticism is a human endeavor (as is art), it necessarily consists of questions with no definitive answers. If you wanted to set the boundary between subjectivity and objectivity at the far edge of possible human comprehension, though, I’d say that makes practical sense.

But first, I meant to get to the nature of slice-of-life in context of the latest Lucky Star OVA. Which means, uh, that I have to watch it first. So, yeah.

@ Pontifus: Certainly by training (see above) I hold myself back from aesthetic judgement, so evidently in walking-the-walk terms I agree with you that it isn’t the purpose of (my) criticism. I have a stance on objectivity which is a rather toxic mix of Hume and Plato: we will never know for sure which interpretations are the best, and we will never know for sure which works of art are the best, but just because our minds are inadequate doesn’t mean there aren’t some definitive truths (and a definitive canon, for that matter) out there in the realm of, erm, forms.

I absolutely agree that the critical process makes the experience of art more enjoyable. To be honest, I’ve only recently reached a point at which I can genuinely enjoy something based almost solely upon how thought-provoking it is. Had I started watching Aria six months ago, I probably would’ve given it the same treatment I gave Lucky Star, but at this point I think it’s great. Hell, now that I’ve convinced myself that I missed some of its more interesting little facets, I may try Lucky Star again (though I don’t expect I’ll enjoy it too much more — my tastes and state of mind have changed quite a bit recently, but my sense of humor has not).

@IKnight

Well, when thinking critically, I prefer to forgo aesthetic judgment in favor of non-judgmental aesthetic evaluation, which to me seems a part of the hunt for meaning. I’d say that aesthetic judgment isn’t the purpose of criticism — or rather, because I can’t speak for any critic but myself, that it isn’t one of my purposes as a critic. To me, aesthetic judgment seems more a factor of personal taste than anything. But I’m of the sort that doesn’t think there can be objectivity in art criticism, which probably has a lot to do with my stance on the question you raise. Perhaps, in the act of criticism, in pointing out only certain possible aspects of a text and not literally everything, we are judging texts, but in that case we come back to the question of right and wrong being a moot point; no two people will see all the same things, and no objective evidence exists to change that. I tend to think meaning isn’t inherent in a text anyway, and, given that, anyone who says “this element of this text means x” cannot practically be right; the more logical “this element of this text means x to me” is necessarily subjective for its “to me.” I guess that puts me somewhere in the constructivist-subjectivist range…damn, I’ve been finding all kinds of interesting words to describe myself with lately.

I’m quite tired at this point, having been through class and a four-hour meeting today, so forgive me in the likely event that I’ve rambled on without addressing your question at all.

@TheBigN

I’m not sure how thoroughly one can understand a text — there may be no limit — but I think understanding requires taking contrasting criticisms into consideration. Even if no critic (who isn’t lying about finding something outrageous in a text for the sheer sake of outrage) can technically be wrong, there’s still a definable body of “right” criticism consisting of everything that has been said and nothing that hasn’t. The most informative part of criticism, for me, isn’t the writing process (though that’s informative in itself); it’s being disagreed with.

That’s a really good question. I think what I would have to say is, I think it’s all aesthetic, but I don’t think of “aesthetic judgement” as “correction of taste.” That might very well be how everyone else thinks of it, but I think I’ve re-valued it in my head. A crazy professor, last semester, set us the homework assignment of defining “truth” — never mind the difficulty philosophers have with it. I defined it as an aesthetic experience. Basically, the “meaning” inside art is, I think, simply another aesthetic experience, which is why some people just won’t like it no matter how well it deals with its themes. I’m not thinking of a work in particular, hence the vague pronouns.

But I like the way that the conversation went. I think criticism also helps increase an understanding of what’s being criticize, by seeing how others can look at things differently. We can get that through other means, but critiquing works I feel can be more effective because it makes you take notice with a sharp contrast or sharp delineation with what someone believes.

Or something like that.

Do you distinguish between the hunt for meaning (‘the elucidation of works of art’) and aesthetic judgement (‘the correction of taste’)? I have this suspicion that anyone with a modicum of evidence can be right about the former, while only some of those with evidence are right about the latter. Granted, there’s a tendency for them to bleed into each other. Or maybe the latter isn’t criticism?

I would add that one of the reasons I do criticism is that it increases my enjoyment of the text in question, and I assume at least some readers will enjoy it in the same way. In the sense that Aristotle (I think, maybe Plato, I’m not at my best when dealing with the ancient Greeks) claimed that “the unexamined life isn’t worth living,” I feel that — not being as bold or acerbic as our mystery Greek — an examined text is a text more fully enjoyed.