Critiquing the Critics

Regarding Ray Loynd’s review of KCRW’s “Julius Caesar” (“A Distinctly American ‘Caesar’ on Radio,” Calendar, Feb. 25): I’ve read his criticism for years and have, more often than not, agreed with his appraisals. However, as a dedicated high school teacher, I must comment on the first paragraph in this review (“. . . those who were bludgeoned to death by the force-feeding of ‘Julius Caesar’ in a dreary high school English class. . . .”):

I know we are easy marks. And it is fun to take potshots at teachers. But many of us try hard to present “Julius Caesar” in a lively and relevant manner to students who have no previous exposure to Shakespeare and are rarely ready to be exposed. In L.A. city schools, the play is required reading for 10th graders. Few of us have theatrical training, so can we, at least, get some credit for trying?

Loynd obviously enjoys “Julius Caesar.” Could it have been his introduction to it in high school that first prepared him to appreciate L.A. Theatre Works’ version? Furthermore, his fine writing ability obviously received nurturing somewhere. Could it have been in some “dreary” high school classroom?

Perhaps we have “bludgeoned” students, but we, too, are bludgeoned--and often by those who should have only gratitude for our hard work.

MICHAEL H. LEVIN

Banning High School

Wilmington

Chris Willman is a clever writer who brings a lot of life to whatever subject he tackles. Unlike many newspaper writers, he tries to always be fresh and novel in his observations. Unfortunately, he seems to be getting into the trap of trying to out-clever himself; his word choice, word inventions (such as “technolust”) and phrasing are getting so “clever” as to be impenetrable and even silly. I cite as example his review of Laurie Anderson (“Anderson Invites One and All to Her Electronic Campfire,” Calendar, Feb. 23).

Consider this statement: “. . . determining which of Anderson’s mass media are based on exactly which would require the chart-making skills of a professional chicken/egg theorist.” What on Earth does that mean? And this: “One of the better later moments has Anderson interfacing with nothing less than a black hole or red sphere--played by herself, seen through a distorting camera on the end of her microphone. ‘You rang?’ Anderson as the spacey otherness keeps repeating, sort of like the God of the book of Job, but afflicted with cosmic PMS as much as divine peevishness.” Huh? What was that all about?

I can’t begin to figure out what Anderson was actually doing, or trying to do, from Willman’s account. Then there is this remarkably esoteric observation: “Her combination of wry anecdotage and epic-scaled portent certainly does bridge the gap between, say, Spalding Gray and Queensryche.” Yup, now there’s a gap that’s certainly needed bridging. I’ve been wondering long and hard about who’s going to bridge that gap! Mighty fancy way of saying that Anderson tells scary stories, seems to me.

Here’s hoping that Willman stops playing with language at the expense of conveying clear ideas.

S. M. PAUL

Reseda

Los Angeles