Nick Hornby On Criticism

Sometimes I am my own worst enemy. I tend to prejudge a lot of things before they really get a chance. I often get so excited about something, say a new film, that when it fails to measure up, I am devastatingly disappointed. Other times, I decide something isn't any good, sight unseen, and miss out. A couple of days ago, I started reading Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch and thought a passage found inside summed it up quite nicely. So for any of you out there that has actually listened to or read any of my diatribes/rants on music and film (especially those of you who waded through my Superman Returns one), well, this one's for you:

"A critical faculty is a terrible thing. When I was eleven there were no bad films, just films I didn't want to see, there was no bad food, just Brussels sprouts and cabbage, and there were no bad books - everything I read was great. Then suddenly, I woke up in the morning and all that had changed. How could my sister not hear that David Cassidy was not in the same class as black Sabbath? Why on earth would my English teacher think that The History of Mr Polly was better than Ten Little Indians by Agatha Christie? And from that moment on, enjoyment has been a much more elusive quality."

By the way, when I read that to Megan, she said, "Oh my God, he's you!"

Sigh.

Everyone's a critic...