The Function of Criticism

T. S. Eliot

Original language · as published

The question of the function of criticism, when stated in its most general terms, is an abstruse one. It is possible to make it intelligible by converting it into a concrete question: What are the duties of the critic in relation to the existing literature of his own language and to living poets? There are, I think, three main duties that arise under this head. The first duty is to a tradition; the second is to the artist; the third is to the public. These three obligations are not distinct departments; they overlap and criticize one another. The primary relation of criticism is to the past; the primary relation of the critic is to the existing literary tradition. The critic must be faithful to the tradition, and yet he must be able to perceive what is living in the present and to welcome it. He must remember that the responsibility of maintaining a tradition is not merely historical but also ethical and aesthetic. The critic is a guardian of the literary inheritance, but this guardianship must not become a fossilizing authority.

It is essential to recognize that the past can be rediscovered only by the presence of a present sensibility that can appreciate it; and that the past has no power to oblige the critic unless it can be made to speak to him as an immediate reality. The critic who is merely scholastic, who is devoted to antiquarian research, may have a vast knowledge of the history of literature, but he may be quite incapable of judging what is great in that literature, because greatness requires the concurrence of a contemporary taste. The study of the past, therefore, should be pursued, not for the sake of possessing knowledge as a collection of facts, but for the sake of understanding how the present can be enlightened by the past. The critic's duty to tradition involves a continual process of assimilation and selection, a discrimination that preserves what is valuable and discards what is accidental.

The second duty is to the living artist. This duty, however, is not identical with a blind advocacy of novelty. The critic should not be a mere partisan of innovation; nor should he be an enemy of change. His duty to the artist is to see the artist's work in relation to the tradition, to judge it by standards that are both historical and aesthetic. He must inform the artist of the conditions and limitations imposed by the tradition, and he must also recognize the artist's right to break with tradition when such breaking is justified by a genuine creative impulse. The critic should be a mediator between the artist and the public, helping to explain the new work in terms that the public can understand, without sacrificing the integrity of the work.

The third duty is to the public. The critic has to educate the public taste, to raise its level of appreciation, and to prevent the tyranny of mere fashion. He must resist the casual judgments of popularity and must endeavor to present reasoned and informed judgments. The critic's task is not merely negative — to expose the faults of bad writing — but positive: to illuminate the principles by which good writing can be recognized and valued. This is an ethical duty as well as an intellectual one: the critic who fails to perform it is responsible for the deterioration of taste and for the encouragement of mediocrity.

These three duties may sometimes conflict. The critic's loyalty to tradition may seem to obstruct his sympathy with the new; his sympathy with the artist may make him appear to the public as an advocate rather than an impartial judge; his duty to the public may compel him to moderate his judgments for the sake of clarity and acceptability. The critic must strive to reconcile these duties, to balance them so that none is sacrificed. This balance is not a matter of compromise but of insight: the critic must understand the relations between past and present, between artist and audience, and must be able to translate his understanding into persuasive criticism.

In conclusion, the function of criticism is to maintain and revive a living tradition, to mediate between the artist and the public, and to educate and improve taste. The critic must be at once a student of history, a close reader of contemporary work, and an interpreter for the public. Such criticism is not a luxury but a necessity for any healthy literary culture. Without criticism, the tradition atrophies; without criticism, the artist is isolated; without criticism, the public is left to the chance of fashion and ignorance. The critic's responsibility is therefore a creative one: by illuminating the relations of literature to its past and present, he helps to shape the future of the art.