“So we arrive at a certain paradox. The classic defines itself by surviving. Therefore the interrogation of the classic, no matter how hostile, is part of the history of the classic, inevitable and even to be welcomed. For as long as the classic needs to be protected from attack, it can never prove itself classic.
One might even venture further along this road to say that the function of criticism is defined by the classic: criticism is that which is duty-bound to interrogate the classic. Thus the fear that the classic will not survive the decentering acts of criticism may be turned on its head: rather than being the foe of the classic, criticism, and indeed criticism of the most skeptical kind, may be what the classic uses to define itself and sure its survival. Criticism may in that sense be one of the instruments of the cunning of history.”
—
J. M. Coetzee, “‘What is a Classic?: A Lecture,” Stranger Shores, 16.
Have been reading a lot of literary criticism lately (Coetzee and Wood, Said and Adorno) as I continue to think about how I want to execute my next book and what I want the stakes of its execution to be. Until I figure this out, I fear whatever I write will be too earnest. In terms of how a book is written, Coetzee’s criticism is enlightening, particularly the collection Inner Workings, because his critiques come from the inside. One senses a writer with a writer’s concerns. That he also happens to be a brilliant novelist puts him in the same category of artists who also happen to be critics of the first order such as Jeff Wall.
The Coetzee quotation, aside from being compelling in its own right, also begs another question: what will happen to the classic, or sophisticated arts in general, as criticism itself becomes decentered? Will Coetzee’s thesis continue to resonate?
